


The Blood of Hecate

by Amoux



Series: The Shadow of Olympus [1]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Action/Adventure, Fanfiction, Fantasy, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-29
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-05-29 23:36:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 32
Words: 110,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6398833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amoux/pseuds/Amoux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nathan and Ember are two orphaned teenagers whom have been living at Branberry Orphanage for as long as they can remember.  Little do they know, they are the children of powerful Greek Gods, who are beginning to wage war against an ancient being.  After traveling to Camp Half-Blood, a safe haven for demigods, they are pulled into an adventure intermingled with betrayal, romance and powers beyond their comprehension.  Ember is kidnapped for a ritual that needs her blood, and the Lord of Darkness is trying to awaken the most powerful force the world has ever known.  And only seven half-bloods can stop him.  Mass update of chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Flight From Branberry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The art below was drawn for this fanfiction, please do not steal or replicate.  
> Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=27G8zw00cQ8  
> 

 

 

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November nights were always the worst.  They were the kinds of nights where you sat curled up against the warmth of a fireplace, the lick of its flames sliding up your body and filling you to the brim in comfort and calm.  They were the kinds of nights where you cocooned yourself in five blankets, nestling down against the fabrics of your bed and clung to whatever stuffie happened to be within two feet of you.  They were the kinds of nights where you watch the icy rain splash against the windows, ogling at the crack of lightning that split the sky into streams of silver and gold.  

Nathaniel Barrow however, did not have the fortune of experiencing November nights in such a manner.  

The wind gifted dark secrets in quiet whispers in that chilly, dark ally.  Picking up crumpled pieces of paper, they were flung across the uneven slabs of broken concrete, swirling around a shape huddled against the rough side of a building.  Haunting beams of silver light cast down from a half shadowed moon illuminated the figure who shifted, trying to disappear in his oversized coat.  

Crouched behind a stack of UPS boxes, the boy gave a violent shiver.  The tips of his fingers were numb and cold, and as he gave a  shaky exhale his breath curled in an icy mist, evaporating inches from his lips and he closed his black eyes, leaning against the boxes.  

Normally, he would have been able to take refuge from the cold.  He had one particular spot in an abandoned shop that he would typically go to on such cold nights.  But not this time.  Not with the creature lingering in every shadow.  Giving a small shiver, one not elicited from the cold, the young boy scooted further underneath the lamp that hung from the wall with a sign just below it, swaying slowly in the breeze.  He hadn’t even bothered trying to read what it said.  Every time the young boy strained to read, the letters would swerve and spin, making it absolutely impossible.  Concrete steps led up to a worn, light green door with a bronze knob.  

He tugged his scarf tighter around his neck.  It was a ratty, old thing, black and green that was ripped and stained, the ends of it tattered and mauled.  But with the way the young boy clutched it firmly in his hand, you would have guessed it was the most important thing in the world.  

Reaching inside his coat, with his messy black hair falling over his eyes, the boy pulled half a rice crispie treat.  It would have screamed unsanitary to anyone not half starved.  Nathaniel however, nibbled off the ends fondly, giving a delighted sigh as the child rested his head back against the wall.  At seven years old, he should have been nestled with his parents in some place that was warm and cozy.  

Nathaniel could hardly recall those moments.  Indeed, the only thing young Nathan could remember was the night of the accident.  It was a night he chose to keep pushed to the back of his mind.  

A large crash from behind had Nathan jolting where he sat, snapping his head to the side as his black eyes darted fearfully down the alley to his back.  His body was tensed, ready to spring and bolt at the slightest notice of danger.  His gaze flashed from the trashcan that had been tipped over to the road, where he could see cars shooting by.  

His body remained immobile from some time, not daring to loosen in fear that the creature might show its face again.  Finally after what seemed like hours, Nathaniel let himself uncoil and he slumped tiredly against the wall, closing his eyes.  He was so exhausted.  He’d been running for days, with no direction, no idea where to go.  At least until he came here.  It seemed safe, he hadn’t seen the creature for some time, until last night of course.  

His fingers remained curled around the stolen kitchen knife in his small, pale hands.  This creature that had been following him, it was a monster.  During the weeks it had been stalking him, it never tried to harm him, but every time it came too close he would slash at it with his knife.  Only to find that the blade would pass right through its skin, like he was attacking a ghost.  

No one else saw it.  Every time he shouted out, trying to draw attention from the adults they would merely give him an odd look and continue watching.  He couldn’t understand why the others couldn’t see it, too.  Was he truly going insane?  

He felt the familiar chill edge its way down his spine and he shivered, backing up so close to the wall that any closer would cause him to phase right through.  His eyes remained closed.  Maybe if he kept them shut, whatever was out there would go away.  Part of him thought bitterly, why don’t you just eat me already?

Nathaniel Barrow however, is very stubborn.  And death was not on the agenda.  

His heart dropped into his stomach as he felt hot breath on his face.  His hands were shaking, and his eyes remained glued shut, fingers trembling around the kitchen knife. _It’s not real, it’s not real, it’s not reach._ Another breath that rolled over his skin had Nathaniel opening his eyes, and turning to face the beast.  And he gazed straight into eyes of hellfire, belonging to a massive, black hound.  

Nathaniel gasped, shooting up and he backed away so briskly that his heel caught his toes, sending the boy to his bottom.  His callused hands clawed behind him as he scooted backwards, eyes locked on the hound in terror.  

Like always, the hound did not attack.  It stood stoically over the boy, waving its tail back and forth.  Nathaniel couldn’t understand what it wanted.  Was it toying with him?  Trying to make him feel fear?  If so, it was working with flying colours.  

“Get away from me!” Nathan shouted, grabbing a piece of broken concrete from the ground.  He hurled it at the hound, striking the monster mutt on the nose and it shook its head in a manner of confusion then snarled, crouching low, as if to pounce.  

Nathaniel squeezed his eyes shut.  Goodbye, cruel world.

There was a yelp and they instantly snapped open.  Something was sticking out of the hound’s flank - the shaft of an arrow?  Its eyes turned on Nathaniel, and for a moment, he thought he saw a question in those eyes.   _Why?_ Why however was too long a question to answer, as the hound dissolved into ash, blown away with the next wind.  

“Damned dogs are always trying to get into my garbage.”

The voice tore Nathan’s eyes up from the spot where the monster had been up to the concrete steps leading up into the building.  An old woman stood in the open doorway, where soft lamplight spilled outside from within.  She must have been at least in her fifties, her hair overtaken with grey and wrinkled along her face and neck.  Old, fragile, except for her eyes.  A piercing grey that stabbed into Nathaniel just like the arrows strapped to her back.  They were almost as scary as the scowl she wore on her lips.  “Well?” She asked.  “What do you want?”

He couldn’t speak.  He tried to form a question, but it was lost in his throat, so instead he croaked something incomprehensible and looked at the ground quickly, red rushing up into his face.  

“Speak up, boy.”

She was met with silence.  His mouth was now locked shut as he kept his eyes peeled to the ground.  The woman didn’t say anything for a moment.  He knew she was watching him, could feel those eyes of hers piercing into the top of his head.  Finally she walked over, her shoes slapping against the concrete of the alley, approaching him.  His spirits lifted.  Was she going to help him?  Give him food?

Instead, her wrinkled, old lady fingers snapped onto Nathan’s ear and yanked him up, a pitiful yowl escaping through his lips.  “Did you hear me?” She asked loudly.  “What do you want?”

“Food!” He yelped.  It was the first thing that came to mind.  

She stared at him for a long moment before letting go and he rubbed at his earlobe pathetically.  “Food, eh,” she said, stepping back to examine him.  He felt her eyes travel along his emaciated figure and he huddled deeper into his coat, looking away angrily.  

Finally, after a moment of silence, she nodded at the open door.  “You’ve come to the right place, Nathaniel Barrow,” she said, gesturing up towards the sign that swung behind her.  

Nathan’s eyes trailed up to the old sign and squinted.  With a light gasp, he realized he could read it.  The words didn’t swirl as much as they normally did, and after a brief second of concentrating, the words were clear in his mind.

**Branberry Orphanage**

_Home to Half Breeds, Misfits and Mavericks._

“Branberry?” Nathaniel read slowly.  A thought crossed his mind and he turned his eyes back to the old woman.  “How do you know my name?” He asked suspiciously, his hand tightening around the puny excuse of a knife that he held in his hand.  His fingers wrapped firmly around the knife as she crouched down, but when he noticed the lack of a metallic edge in her eyes, he relaxed enough for her to gently take the weapon, tucking it into her pocket.  

“You won’t need that anymore, Nathan,” she said, ignoring his question.  “You will be safe here.”

 

* * *

 

“I hate it here.”

The dark haired teen lay sprawled out on the sofa, his feet hidden by thick combat boots kicked up on the coffee table, bitter black eyes latched onto the younger children that play on the red carpet of the living room.  

Branberry Orphanage.  When he had arrived at the place ten years ago, there had been only one other resident, a young girl his age.  As the years passed, it had quickly filled up, now with he and said female friend the eldest residents, all the others fourteen or under.  And Nathan didn’t make a very good babysitter.  

Blowing his hair out of his face, which spiked forward in a rebellious manner, he turned ebon eyes out the window where cold wind splashed against the window.  Ten years to the date he’s been in here.  He had just about had it with this place.  He couldn’t wait to set out on his own in a year.   

“You’ve been saying that for ten years,” came a bored reply to his left.  Glancing over, Ember was lounging on the couch, her feet behind his back, a light smirk on her thin lips as she watched him, pale green eyes locked onto his.  His best friend, and the thorn that was constantly in his side.  She moved her feet so that they were hanging over the sofa, tilting her head and raised a pierced brow.  “And you still haven’t left.  I’m sensing a pattern here, Natty.”  She tucked a stray string of raven black hair behind her ear, the rest hanging from a messy ponytail.  

“I would if that crazy old bat would let me,” Nathan countered indignantly, rubbing his face as he leaned back against the couch.  It was a lie, of course.  As much as he hated being cooped up in an old, rickety orphanage that constantly smelled like prune juice, it had become home to the young man.  A place he could go to for comfort.  Despite the fact that it was a dump.

The orphanage was once a hotel, bought from their caretaker when she was young with her family’s fortune, turning it into an orphanage for the weirdo brats that had nowhere to go.  You know, the ones that everyone claimed had no hope and fucked up everything they did. From the rusted play structure in the courtyard to the beds with feathers stabbing you in the middle of the night, it was the place he felt most comfort.  

Even all of these crazy kids had become a part of his family.  

Branberry.  It was his home now, and back when he was a kid, he figured that would make him just like all the others.  But he wasn’t. He was still painfully different from other teenagers.  When he was enrolled into a public school (after years of pestering his caretaker for a chance) he immediately busted his opportunity by a horrific accident that involved the school blaming him for a cougar somehow getting into the school.  Upon consistent begs, she gave him another chance.  And another.  And another.  Until he was finally stuck in homeschool.  

Of course, all the children were a little strange.  Nightmares every night, accidents happening at every turn, be it a blankie bursting into flames or lightning harmlessly striking a child in a storm.  But even a misfit among misfits, Nathan was always the odd man out.  He never felt at peace around the others.  Save Ember, of course, but even then, he felt as if she couldn’t understand him.  Like they were from two different worlds.  

“So why not just run away?” Ember asked with a roll of her shoulders.  Nathan scowled.  Was she really that okay with him just taking off? But as he glanced over to her, he could see the tint of a challenge in her eyes.  

Nathan didn’t answer.  He looked away, pretending to be angry as he stubbornly kept his feet planted on the coffee table.  But honestly, the idea made him feel anxious.  He was seventeen years old.  If he’d been able to make it for a couple months on the streets at seven, he could definitely last less than a year away from the orphanage, at least until he became an adult.  The thought of leaving crossed his mind more than once.  But a thought always swept over his mind, stopping him from ever leaving through that door.  

The hound.  Those red eyes of hellfire stalking him from the shadows.  Its black teeth bared.  Nightmares of the creature kept him inside, even after their caretaker, Mrs. Wilson had destroyed it.  Somehow, he felt it was still out there.  Biding its time.  

But did that really happen? She hit it with an arrow and it just dissolved, like something out of a movie.  Shit like that doesn’t happen in real life, right?  By now, he had nearly convinced himself that it was just his imagination.  The creative mind of a distraught child running rampant.  

Almost.  

“Hey.”  A nudge came from his side.  Ember was smiling, a worried smile, but a smile none the less.  “Don’t take off, okay?  Things would be pretty boring without you.”  

Nathan managed a strained smile, pushing back his hair.  “I won’t.”

The creaky green door flew open, followed by a rush of cold wind and rain.  He glanced up to see Mrs. Wilson stepping into the building.  Or at least, her legs.  Her torso was hidden behind bags of food and groceries.  “Can someone grab this?” Came her voice from behind the bread and Nathan stood up, going to her side to take most of them.  He walked over to the kitchen, which was adorned in kitten photos in pink frames, setting the bags on the counter while he listened to the children shouting excitedly, running over to the old woman to ask what treats she got.  Quickly, before anyone saw, he dipped his hand into the closest bag and felt around.  His fingers finally wrapped around something that felt like candy and he pulled it out, smiling at the Twix.  He stuffed it into his pocket and walked back into the living room nonchalantly.  

Nothing happened here.  

Ember knew better.  She always knew.  She sent him an angry scowl which he ignored, sitting promptly down beside her.  “You’re sharing,” she hissed and Nathan gave a snort.

“Yeah right.”

Mrs. Wilson began handing out suckers to the little ones, some of them bickering about how they wanted blueberry instead of watermelon, and Ember got up to separate them before something spontaneously combusted.  Not an uncommon incident at this orphanage.  

Mrs. Wilson heaved a sigh as she flung her purse down onto the floor, sitting down between Nathan and Ember, who shared a smile.  “How were the little ones?” Mrs. Wilson asked, gesturing to the children who were now seated along the red carpet, wrappers now dominating the space.  

“Tommy was talking to the fish again,” Ember remembered.  Nathan frowned and glanced over at the dark haired boy who was laying on his stomach, watching the television which was playing Spongebob Squarepants.  Tommy was an avid fan of Spongebob the animated sponge.  The kid was pretty weird.  It took him forever to drag him out of a bath.  

Mrs. Wilson nodded as if she didn’t expect anything different.  “And Ally? Is she still having nightmares?”

“She didn’t take a nap today,” Nathan said.  “But I heard her whimpering last night.”  

“Something about it being dark,” Ember said quietly.  She stood and walked to little blonde Ally.  She was making up her own version of chess, placing the pieces delicately on the board and as Ember scooped her up onto her lap the five year old began to explain the advanced mechanics of Chess 4.5.

“And what about you, Nathan?”

Nathan, startled, turned to her with a frown.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said adamantly.  

Mrs. Wilson smiled.  A smile that a mother would give after catching a child in a lie after the jar of cookies had gone missing.  “I hear you in your sleep, Nathan,” she said in a careful, prodding voice.  “I know you have been having nightmares as well.” She rested a withered hand on his shoulder.  “Are you sure you do not wish to tell me?”

Nathan’s dark eyes had gone to his hands.  His clenched fists.  He hadn’t told anyone about his dream.  Not even Ember...god, especially not Ember.  It scared him to even think about it.  “It doesn’t matter,” he said gruffly, rolling his shoulder.  “It’s only a dream.”

“Is it?” Mrs. Wilson asked.  There was a tone in her voice that made Nathan look at her, his brow furrowed.  “Recurring dreams always have meaning, Nathan,” she said, a distant look to her steel eyes.  “Remember that.”  She stood up to rant at two of the young children whom had turned on the television, stepping away from Nathan to leave him in his thoughts.

Nathan returned his gaze back to his hands as he rubbed his thumb along the inside of his palm.  She wasn’t wrong.  He wasn’t an idiot, he knew it had meaning.  He was always trying to convince himself that it was just a dream.  That nothing would come of it...but he couldn’t help the sinking sensation that something bad was going to happen.  Soon.  

He was so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed that Ember had placed Ally down and sat beside him until her voice came from his right.  “...you okay?”

Nathan glanced over to her and nodded dismissively.  “Yeah.”

“You’re a liar.”

Nathan swallowed his scowl, instead giving a bitter chuckle as he ran his pale fingers through his dark hair.  “You know me too well.”

“After ten years looking after your ass, I’d hope so.  What’s up?”

Nathan didn’t answer for a moment. He kept his eyes pinned to his hands.  Or perhaps it was the ground.  A blank stare and finally he heaved a sigh, glancing up to meet her jade eyes.  “Would you come with me? If I left?”

Ember hadn’t been expecting the question.   She hesitated, rolling the question over in her mind for a moment.  “I guess it would depend on where you were headed,” she said finally.  “But...I think I would come with you.” She smirked.  “You aren’t the only one who is sick of living here, believe me.  And I’ve been here longer than you.  So, where would you go?”

Nathan wasn’t sure, to be honest.  Only that he would eventually leave.  Every kid that lived in Branberry left, once they turned eighteen.  If they didn’t want to, Ember told him they’d be smacked out with the broom then have a bag filled with money and chocolate chip cookies thrown at their head once they’d been beaten out onto the street.  As for his destination, he hadn’t thought of that.  His dreams involved everything that didn’t involve Branberry.  But an exact location?  That was a bit harder.  He definitely didn’t want to go back home.  There were too many memories there.  Painful memories.  

He opened his mouth to respond, when from outside there was a long, loud howl.  

All of the children froze.  One yelped, “Puppy!” But otherwise a silence had swept over the building.  Mrs. Wilson’s head snapped up to the door.  And an icy chill slithered down his spine.  It was a chill that was all too familiar.  He recognized that howl.  “...oh no,” he whispered, slowly standing.  Everything was coming bac.  The hellfire eyes.  Fangs flashing in silver moonlight.  “Ember,” he said, turning to the girl.  “Listen, we need to get out of-”

He didn’t finish, because at that moment the door was broken open.  Splinters of wood exploded from the doorframe, and the billowing dust gave way to three massive, raven haired mastiffs, with hellfire eyes fixed directly on Nathan.  

Nathan didn’t have time to react before one of the hounds leaped towards Tommy.  Tommy gave a shrill shriek, putting his arms up.  The hound’s bared fangs however, failed to reach its mark.  Mrs. Wilson intercepted the massive hound with a broom, knocking it to the side.  Which was a pretty impressive feat, considering the hounds were the size of mountain lions.  Even more impressive still, she was an old hag.  

“Nathan!” Mrs. Wilson shouted over her shoulder, using her free moment to rush to the cupboard.  Using her forearm to knock soup cans and macaroni boxes to the side, she grabbed the hilt of a blade and pulled the bronze broadsword from the inside.  Nathan’s eyes bulged.  He nearly averted them as she began to tear her coat off.  Did she really need to strip in the middle of a dog fight in front of a bunch of children? But underneath was not a shirt or undergarments, but a bronze breastplate that shimmered in the light of the lamp that was knocked to the ground by the tail of a hound.  

She raised the sword, deflecting a bite from the hound.  It nearly knocked her to the ground and she stumbled backwards with a growl.  “Hell hounds!” She shouted, looking to Nathan as if she expected he knew what she meant.  He didn’t.  In fact, he just wanted to bolt.  

A hellhound crashed into her side, knocking her to the ground and the broadsword skidded from reach.  She held it back with her forearm, its jaws snapping at her face.  Shit, shit, shit, what should he do?  The sword.  He had to get to the sword.  He started towards the sword when a hound lunged at his back, pouncing on him from behind.  He fell face first, his head smacking into the ground and stars danced in front of his eyes.  

He growled, struggling to move and its paw sank harder into his back, keeping him from moving.  He looked forward.  The sword was only several feet away.  He reached out, his arm straining as he reached for the sword and he swore.  It was too far away.  At least, until a hell hound trampled by, its feet knocking the blade just close enough for his hand to grasp its hilt.  

He could hear the dangerous snarl from the hellhound above him, its hot breath on the back of its neck as it stooped down to take a chunk out of him and Nathan shouted, swinging the blade backwards.  It connected with the creature, the sword sinking into its skin.  Instead of being splattered in blood the creature exploded into thick ash, completely coating him.  

“Nathan!”  In a daze, Nathan looked up as Mrs. Wilson came closer to him, fending off a hellhound with her broom. It was chaos.  Children were screaming, crawling over one another to escape.  But other than the one attack, they were completely ignored.  All attention was focused directly on Nathan.  A ehllhound lunged at him, and instinctively he dodged, ducking down and spun and there was a howl as it struck a garbage can, old lasagna sticking to its matted black fur.  “Go!” Mrs. Wilson shouted, spinning to dodge its fangs, landing next to Nathan.  She yanked the blade from his trembling fingers and shoved him towards the hall.  “Go!”

No.  He didn’t want to.  But before he could say anything, Ember appeared beside him, grabbing his hand and pulled him into a hallway, slamming the door behind them, briskly locking it.  Something slammed up against the wooden door, and he could feel scraping as they struggled to bash it down.  “Come on!” Her hand found his again and she tried to yank him down the hall, but Nathan gave a growl and wrenched his hand away from hers.  

“We can’t just leave them.”

“They’ll be fine!  Nathan I don’t know why, but they’re after you, not them.  Maybe...maybe if we leave, they’ll follow.  Either way, you need to get out of here.”

Another terrified scream, this one from Brandin echoed from behind the door and Nathan cringed.  “Fine,” Nathaniel snarled, and he jerked his thumb towards the door which was beginning to splinter under the weight of the hounds crashing against the wood.  “But how do you think we should get away from them?”

“The garbage chute, up top,” Ember said instantly, grabbing his arm and pulled him forward.  This time, he didn’t resist.  As the two raced up the stairs, their feet thumping on the creaky wooden steps he heard a crash and howls.  

“They broke it down!” He shouted, sparing a look down the staircase.  The dogs were starting up and Nathan swore, picking up the pace.  Why was this happening?  Dogs brutally attacking one guy, ignoring all others with the intention to _kill?_ It was unheard of.  

And even worse, now he knew it hadn’t been his imagination.  

Well, at least he wasn’t crazy.  

They reached the chute and she quickly pulled up the small door that opened up to the smelly tunnel leading down into darkness.  He wrinkled his nose.  Right.  They had just emptied it this morning.  He was about to recommend trying to jump out a window when there was a howl from behind and the two gasped, spinning around.  A hound was right behind them, fixing its red eyes on them.  

“Go!” He felt her hands shoving roughly on his back and with a yell, he tumbled into the chute.  It was dark for a brief moment before he spilled out into the dumpster, getting his bearings for just a moment before Ember fell on top of him.  They groaned as their heads collided and he winced, raising his hand to his temple before vaulting out of the dumpster with Ember right behind him.  

The two shakily got to their feet, looking up at the chute where a hateful howl echoed from above. “I think they’re too big to get through,” she said.  “But t they can still fit through the door.  Let’s go.”

They sprinted around the corner of the building, and Nathan spared the broken door a glance before baring his teeth and ran harder.  Had to get away and lure them.  They started down the street when a voice sounded from behind them.  “Nathan!”

Nathan skidded to a stop, turning around.  M rs. Wilson was at a window, with a long scratch along her face.  “The Airforce Academy!” She called.  “There are people there that can help you! They-” she didn’t finish.  A black mastiff threw itself at her, and the two disappeared from sight.  

“No!” Ember screamed, turning to sprint back inside.  She didn’t get far.  Nathan latched onto her arm, yanking her back.  

“We can’t,” he said, forcing himself to stay calm.  But he couldn’t keep the quiver from his voice.  “There are too many; we have to go, now!”

Tears stung at Ember’s eyes but she nodded firmly, biting her lower lip.  She hesitated, opening her mouth to say something when there was a shattering crash and the two jolted, spinning around.  A dog had jumped through the window, shaking itself free of glass while the other appeared at the doorway, both of them snarling menacingly.

“Run!” Nathan shouted and while he was running he brought up his leg so that he could rip his shoe off, hopping frantically.  Ember shot him a glare.  

“What the hell are you doing?!”

“Slowing them down!” When he finally wrestled off his boot he spun around, launching it at a hellhound.  He always sucked at baseball, but as if his smelly boot was guided by some godlike force, it hit the dog right in the nose.  It whimpered, stunned and distracted enough to turn in order to avoid any further incoming missiles - slamming right into a light post.  

The last one was speeding up, its paws tearing at the street as it chased them with a blood curdling howl.  Nathan could hear Ember panting beside him and he swore, looking around.  They had to find a way to escape or they were about to be a demon dog’s dinner.  

Then he spotted it.  A U-Haul truck, its back doors open with couches and furniture sprawled on the grass.  “Come on!” He shouted, veering to sprint towards it and he could hear Ember at his heels.  He vaulted over a table, scrambling up into the truck and spun around, grasping Ember’s hand and heaved the girl into the truck.  As soon as she was inside he jumped up, grabbing the bars of the doors and slammed them shut.  

In that moment, the truck jerked as the hound rammed it, knocking him onto his bottom and scrambled backwards, Ember crawling up against him and they huddled.  

They could hear the dog growling and howling from inside, and felt Ember’s hand grasping his arm painfully tight.  He didn’t care.  His dark eyes were locked on the door, his body tense, ready to spring.  

Eventually, the hound’s growls faded away, and there was quiet.  The quiet was broken momentarily by a single, blood curdling howl, then all was silent.

Nathan and Ember didn’t dare to move a muscle.  They clung to one another, their breaths and pants the only thing to be heard, their bodies convulsing with light trembles.  After nearly ten minutes, Nathan finally uncoiled himself from Ember, whispering, “I think it’s gone.”

“We have to go check on them,” Ember whispered.  She started to stand and Nathan yanked her back down.

“No!” He hissed, looking at her.  “We don’t know if it’s still out there...for all we know, it could be waiting for us.  Besides,” he hesitated.  “I think Mrs. Wilson can take care of herself.”

“She’s an old lady.”

“An old lady that pulled a sword from the cupboard,” Nathan said as Ember sat down beside him with a sigh.  The truck jerked suddenly and he flew out his hand, grabbing her shoulder to keep her from toppling forward, his body tensing.  “We’re moving,” he said as the truck began to rumble.

“We’re supposed to be going to the airport,” Ember pointed out.  “We need to get to the Academy.”

Nathan shrugged helplessly.  “I don’t know why Mrs. Wilson would want us to go there...and honestly right now, I just want to get away from here.  Once we put some distance between us and those dogs, we can head to an airport and get to Colorado.”  He heaved a long, tired yawn.  Now that they were out of danger, his bones melted inside his body and Nathan snuggled into the corner of the truck.  “We need to sleep,” he murmured, hearing Ember’s returning yawn.  “I’ll keep watch.”

“Are you sure?” She asked.  Her eyes were already fluttering with exhaustion and he smirked, giving a nod.  

“Yeah. I’m sure.”

She nodded and leaned her cheek against his shoulder, closing her eyes.  On any other occasion, he would have brushed her off.  However, after nearly being mauled by massive monster hounds, he really didn’t care.  He sat still until he heard the steadiness of her breath as she finally fell asleep.

His promise to stay awake was short lived, because his eyes began to droop, his shoulders sagging and with a long sigh, his head slumped up against hers, and he was asleep.  


	2. Gods and Dreams

For as long as he could remember, Nathan had always been haunted by nightmares.  Most of the time, they made not the faintest sense.  Fighting monsters of legend, wielding bronze, gleaming blades, being sucked into the Earth.  He could expect nightmares every night, that plagued his mind and left him springing upwards in his bed drenched in sweat.  

This night was not an exception.  

He was in a massive, cavernous throne room.  Stretching out far beyond where he stood, the entire room seemed to be made of a strange metal he had never seen before.  Like volcanic glass, Nathan could look down and see his own face reflecting up at him.  Lit up by glowing torches with flames too red to be natural, it cast a hellish glow upon the throne room.  A hell that didn’t match the piercing iciness that had Nathan’s breath curling out in a mist.  

The room was cold.  Wrapping his arms around his body Nathan stumbled forward hesitantly, eyes cast on the pillars that lined the edges of the room. They were carved into curves that stretched upwards to the ceiling with images cast upon their smooth surfaces.  He couldn’t quite make them out - the images seemed to curl around the statue, moving as he watched.  

Turning forward, his breath was caught in his throat.  A short stair led up to a dais raised above the rest of the room, and two thrones were seated upon it.  They could have been able to sit giants, dark and twisted with shards of metal curling from their sides like fangs.  And between them, a sword.  Stabbed into the floor it had sliced through butter, it gave off a...power.  An aura that made Nathan nearly sink to his knees, before something caught his eye.

A figure began to manifest inside the room.  

Seeming to walk out of the darkness, he was made entirely of shadow, only vaguely looking somewhat humanoid. His very presence seemed to make the room seem ten times colder, and a violent shudder overtook Nathan, the shadows seeming to snake around his body.  The being floated ethereally into the room,  and as his feet hit the ground, began to take on a physical form.  The shadow melted away, revealing a man.  

Ember would have called him “sexy.”  With a strong jawline that was peppered with stubble and black, pushed back hair, he was the kind of guy that she would drooled over.  If you take away eyes that were completely black.  No whites, no colour.  Just voids of shadow that seemed to swirl like a cyclone of darkness.  And he was...ancient.  Raw power seemed to radiate off the being as he raised his head up towards his throne.  

Shadow leapt and writhed around his feet as he stepped towards his throne, the torches seeming to glow and breathe brighter and hotter as he passed.  He reached the top of the dais and pulled the blade from the black metal.  Nathan could have sworn he heard crying, and his heart dropped into his stomach.  

The sword’s blade was plastered with fearful faces.  Women, men and children screaming in terror, eyes blown wide as if they were gazing upon their live’s last seconds.  

The man gripped the blade tightly, admiring it for a moment before he spoke into the darkness, “Bring in the girl.”  

The ceiling rippled for a moment, then two creatures fell down from the darkness.  They must have been hanging up there, and Nathan hadn’t seen them.  They looked like bats, extremely pale with leathery wings and taloned feet.  Their heads however, were human, males to be exact, and their hands were human but covered in black scales, clawed like a rat’s.  They shot off into the darkness, then returned with a girl. 

She was unconscious, pale and tired with light brown hair.  They lay her out on the ground, stretched out in an eagle spread and the man stepped down from his throne, his steps echoing in the silence of the cavernous room.  “Hecate’s blood must suffice,” he whispered, holding his open palm out over the girl.  From under her, a red pentagram materialized, glowing and spreading from her hands to her feet.  

She seemed to wake up then, and with a start she gave a scream, familiar green eyes shooting up at the man.  She struggled to move, but her hands, despite being free were bound to the floor of the room.  “We need the essence of your mother,” the man explained to her calmly, drawing a wicked dagger from his belt.  He sliced it across her wrist and she gave a cry, a line of red dripping from the laceration own her arm.  

The man, now with a black goblet in hand, extended it beneath her wrist and the blood began to slip into its interior.  Breaking from his petrification, Nathan shook his head.  It would be like every time.  But he had to try.  He growled and shouted at the man.  “Stop it!”  His voice went unheard.  It was as he feared.  Another dream, where he was nothing but a ghost.  

After a couple minutes the girl’s head bobbed, slipping from consciousness.  The girl was ignored.  “My blade is no longer competent,” he muttered, his hand on the sheath that held his horror of a blade.  “As fond as I am of it.”  He clicked his tongue and another two bats descended from the ceiling, their wings flapping awkwardly as they carried a scabbard, locked shut by a skull, its mouth ajar.  

They dropped it, the man catching it in one hand.  He seemed shaky, releasing a shuddery, excited exhale as he tenderly lifted the goblet, allowing the blood to dribble into the mouth of the skull and down the scabbard.  Upon entering the skull’s open maw, its eyes glowed a dark green then faded, a click, and the sheath slid open ever slightly.

The man gave a cold smile, and with exuberance pulled a blade from the sheath.  It was truly a beautiful sword, with long reach and a blade made entirely of black, the pommel was a bright silver with red ringlets.  And most of all, it held a power, much like the god himself.  

The man discarded his other weapon, handing it over to a bat and turned around.  “Bring him,” his voice chilled and two of the creatures nodded, darting off.

They returned with another man.  Bound in silver chains, his skin was a deathly pale, his hair black as midnights.  Like the other, his eyes were empty voids, his mouth a thin line of anger . Garbed in nothing but rags, they placed him gently before the man before taking flight, escaping up into the shadows of the dark ceiling.

“Thanatos.”  The man holding the blade stepped forward, admiring the weapon in his hands, keeping his eyes from the other.  “You look well, my son.”  Sarcasm practically dripped from his words. 

“Erebos,” Thanatos replied dryly.  He turned his head, his gaze catching the girl lying on the ground, too still.  His eyes briefly glowed a bright, heavenly silver before he growled and looked back to Erebos.  “She is near death, you fool.”

“Dispensable,” Erebos insisted with a dismissive wave of his hand.  Thanatos shook his head.  

“You will need her again.  If you let her die, this...plan of yours will never come to pass.”

The edge of Erebos’s mouth twitched.  He waved his hand and the girl was carried off down a dark tunnel by a pair of bats.  “Do you want to be released of your bonds, Thanatos?” His ghost of a smile returned.  “Would you like your wings back?”

Thanatos’ body tensed up.  Hesitation phased through the man like a cold wind, before he narrowed his black eyes, saying bitterly, “regardless of whether my body is bound by your chains or not, my soul will continue to be your prisoner.”

Erebos shrugged indifferently.  While Thanatos remained on his knees, Erebos stepped around the man in a lazy circle, admiring the new weapon.  “What can this blade do?” Erebos asked, raising his blade into the crimson light, examining it fondly.  

“Strip the life from any monster, mortal...or god,” Thanatos muttered, his eyes following his father.  “You know this.”

Erebos’ eyes glittered.  Suddenly he twitched, spinning around, the sword arching towards Thanatos.  Nathan’s stomach lurched.  He expected to see a spatter of blood.  Instead, the blade sliced into his shirt but then passed harmlessly through his body.  Thanatos stood straight, regarding his father with a blank expression.  

Erebos growled, stepping forward and raised the sword to Thanatos’ throat.  “You lied,” he snarled.  Thanatos shook his head, unphased by the harmless blade’s tip at his throat.  

“No, I did not,” Thanatos said, seeming to be unphased by the fact his father had just tried to kill him. “You do not posses the power required to activate the abilities of that blade.  The blood of Hecate.”

“That woman’s blood has uses everywhere it would seem.  I cannot bring the Goddess of Mists here,” Erebos muttered, turning away.  

“The blood of Hecate...or her strongest child.”  

Upon hearing Thanatos’ words, Erebos stilled.  He was quiet for a moment, before muttering, “I suppose that is two birds with one stone.  My blade, and my Queen.  And that girl...clearly not Hecate’s strongest child.”  He turned and pressed the edge of the sword to Thanatos’ temple.  

The pale god gasped, his eyes burning red for a moment, his body stiffening before it laxed, his orbs returning back to their normal colour.  “You will obey me,” Erebos growled.  Thanatos gave a weak nod, his mouth tight, as if he needed to say something.

“You will find a child of Hecate.  And you will bring them to me...alive.”  

 

Nathan woke with a gasp.

His heart was pounding, and frantically he looked around, sure that Erebos would be standing right over him while he slept, gazing down upon him with that awful, dead stare.  There was a bump and he jolted, his mind finally returning to the events of the previous day. 

He remembered where he was.  On the truck, with Ember.  

He settled down, still panting and swiped a drop of sweat from his brow.   _ A child of Hecate...what was he talking about?  _ He thought to himself.  Damn it, why couldn’t he have normal dreams?  

He sighed and looked over to Ember.  She had scooted away from him in the night, her head leaning against the side of the truck as her chest fluttered with even breaths.  He never told her how many times he’d had that dream.  Never told her of the scenes that replayed over and over in his mind in the middle of the night.  

When he first began to have the dream, he researched the names he had heard.  Erebos, Thanatos, Hecate.  Erebos was a primordial god...literally the embodiment of darkness.  Thanatos, his son was the God of death.  Not the dead and undead, like Hades but dying in of itself.  And Hecate, a goddess of magic and witches.  But why?  Why was he dreaming of gods in the first place?

Giving a sigh he shook his head, wondering how long they’d been in the truck.  It must have been ten hours, at least.  And the driver had to stop eventually.  Where had they been taken?  They could be in a different state by now.  

He reached over, shaking the girl and she moaned, turning away from him.  “Get Nathan to do it,” she murmured in a sleepy whine.  Nathan scowled, bringing his fingers together and jabbed them under her ribs.  Ember emitted a sharp squeak, her arms a flurry as she jerked away from him, her eyes snapping open.  She frowned when she saw Nathan watching her bitterly.  “What?” she asked angrily, sitting up and rubbing her side.  

“We’re going to be stopping soon,” Nathan informed her, giving a stretch.  He looked down at his tattered clothes in disdain.  Even if they did get off the truck, they were still going to draw a lot of attention to themselves.  And that was not something Nathan wanted at the moment.  

They were silent for a moment before Ember shifted, her eyes cast downwards.  “Nathan,” she said.  “I forgot to give it to you yesterday, I was really freaked out and just forgot but...” she reached into a small bag she’d managed to grab, drawing a green and black scarf that dangled from her fingers.  

Nathan’s eyes widened and he snatched it from her.  “I thought I’d lost this,” he said quietly, pressing the scarf into his face and closed his eyes.  His fingers ran along it's soft wool, curling them around the scarf like a child.  He’d had the old thing for as long as he could remember, the last thing he still owned from the time he spent with his mother.  Since he came to Branberry, he and Ember fixed it up.  It was no longer in tatters, but it still looked like a piece of junk.  He looked up at Ember.  He didn’t have to say a word.  She rested a hand on his and nodded.  

The truck came to a stop shortly after.  The two gathered what little provisions they had and crouched in the corner of the truck. They didn’t know if the man would be opening up the doors or not, but they didn’t want to be seen and caught.  After all, they had to make their way to the airport...but  _ why?   _ Of all places to send them, why an airport?  

The driver never opened the door.  Instead, they heard footsteps fading away, and he looked to Ember, mouthing the girl to follow and crossed to the two heavy doors.  Pushing the heavy bar upwards off its latch, it swung open at a heavy push and Nathan poked his head out tentatively.  They were on the side of the road, a highway, in the middle of absolutely nowhere, seas of fields flanking them.  

The driver had stopped to take a piss, and Nathan’s eyes caught a sign on the edge of the road.  _ “Welcome to Utah!”  _ Close, but no.  They had to go a bit further.  “We can make it to the grass and hide,” he whispered backwards to Ember.  Nimbly he leapt off the truck, giving a cringe as he thumped onto the pavement. The man was still blissfully unaware, attentively attending to his business.  

With Ember landing beside him, they both sprang towards the grass and dove in, hidden by long weeds just in time.  The man turned around, zipping up  his pants and strolled back to his truck with a happy whistle.  

The two stepped out onto the road again to watch the truck fade away, in the direction that they had been wanting to go in.  Nathan realized that he may have made a mistake as Ember snapped her head over to him, scowling.  

“What now, genius?”

 

Despite night having fallen hours ago, the two continued to walk west with dragging feet, their eyes heavy with exhaustion as they made their way down the highway.  Every once in awhile, they would see lights in the distance and Ember would dance up in down with her thumb jerked up, trying to get their attention.  Only to be ignored, of course.  Nathan didn’t blame them.  Two dirty teenagers garbed in tattered clothes just screamed danger.  

Especially not ones that were being hunted by black mastiffs the size of grizzly bears.  

As the moon reached its peak in the sky, Nathan rubbed his face with a long sigh.  “Come on,” he muttered upon realizing they wouldn’t be reaching a town by tonight.  “Let’s just...hide in the weeds and sleep.” 

Ember gave a tired nod and walking off the pavement they stepped into the field, moving into a spot that was hidden from sight.  Nestling down, too tired and cold to care about boundaries they cuddled up together, Nathan draping his scarf over them like a mini blanket.  “We should take watch,” Ember muttered.  

“You go first.” He heard a haughty huff of irritation from the girl and he turned over, his back to her as he passed out.  

He was woken roughly only a short time after.  He hadn’t even had enough time to dream and he moaned, rolling onto his back to stare at her.  The moon hung over her, making her pale skin look translucent.  “That wasn’t even an hour,” Nathan complained grumpily, sitting up.  

“It’s three.  Your turn.”  She faceplanted into the weeds and Nathan scowled, stretching until he heard a crack in his back. 

“You don’t even have a watch,” he muttered, placing his hands in his lap and glanced about.  What the hell was he supposed to be watching out for in the first place?  Grasshoppers and rabbits?  They’d left the hounds back in Ohio, they were half a country away.  It was lucky they were given a free lift all the way to Kansas, Colorado Springs was only a short ways away.

If you weren’t on foot, of course.  At this rate it would take them a month to reach the academy.  

He began to feel his eyelids get heavy.  Nathan cursed, digging his fingers into his arms to wake himself up.  He couldn’t fall asleep.  Regardless of whether or not he thought it was safe, there could still be danger lurking about.  He couldn’t tell his body no though when it decided it was time to take a nap.  His eyes fluttered and he drifted into a light sleep.

A sleep light enough to awaken him at the slightest crack and snap.  His eyes shot open and he jolted upwards, and without even looking, kicked Ember awake.  She jumped at his kick and sat up quickly, whirling around with her eyes rimmed with red exhaustion.  “Jesus Christ, Nathan!” she spat angrily, looking a bit like a cobra.  She quieted as soon as Nathan put a finger to his lips.  Silencing herself, the two listened intently.  At first, there was nothing.  Only a low whistle as the wind brushed past the long blades of grass that surrounded them, and the low hum of cars that streaked by on the highway.  

Then he felt it.  A chill that slithered down his spine and he clenched his fists, baring his teeth.  Something was near.  He could sense it.  

The grass in front of them suddenly rustled and the two slowly stood, Nathan unconsciously stepping in front of Ember.  Their bodies were tensed.  If something came through the grass, they would be ready to bolt. 

The grass split, and the beast emerged into sight.  “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Nathan muttered, letting his hands uncurled from their fists.  Ember squealed, going from fight-or-flight mode to her girly -omg-it’s-so-cute mode.  It was a puppy.  A large puppy.  Nearly the size of a bull grown wolf, but definitely the body of a puppy, its legs wobbly and uneven.  It gave a happy bark, rolling onto its back as Ember moved to it, cooing and caressing it fondly.  

Nathan groaned, rolling his eyes.  Ember was always like this around dogs. Cats, nah.  Gerbils, nah.  But a dog came into the picture and suddenly she would melt into a giggling puddle over the mutt.  He drew his eyes over it, then hissed and snapped, “wait!”  He grabbed her arm, wrenching her away from the creature and she looked up at him startled.  

“What?”

“Look at it!” he growled, glaring down.  He recognized its eyes.  Red, glowing.  “It's one of those things, one of those...those hell hounds.”

Ember frowned, returning her gaze back to the pup to regard it a bit more closely.  “So it is,” she finally decided.  She looked as if she was going to step away, but then the pup did something he knew she wouldn’t be able to resist - it gave a longing whimper, watching her with its puppy eyes.  

She gave off a very un-Ember like sound as she went onto her knees to rub its belly.  “You’re so cute!” she said delightfully, scratching at its stomach.  The hound seemed to grin, revealing sharp, pointed fangs.  Ember was blind to it, the dog lover she was.  Nathan scowled at it.  Why wasn’t it attacking them?  It seemed to be in absolute love with the pair.  

“We’re not keeping it,” he muttered as the pup moved its massive head onto her lap to have it's ears scratched.  

“Why not?”

“It could kill us in our sleep!” Nathan insisted.  “And besides, I mean we can barely feed ourselves, Ember.”

Ember rolled her eyes, running her hand along its black fur.  “I dunno, he could help us.  A big, mean ol puppy could scare any creepers off.  Couldn’t you!” She turned the dog’s head towards Nathan, her hand cupping its chin.  “Look at how blood thirsty he looks!”

Drool dribbled from the dog’s mouth as it panted and thumped its heavy tail on the ground, watching Nathan excitedly.

“Tsch. Incredibly,” Nathan said dryly.  He kept his eyes on the two for a moment longer before he groaned in submission, rubbing his face.  “You can keep it if you take the rest of tonight’s watch,” he finally muttered.  She gave a squeal, wrapping her arms around the dog’s neck and it sloshed its tongue over her face.  She beamed, like she’d been kissed by her crush and Nathan groaned, turning away and settled down.  Paused for a moment, then turned back to her.  “Are you even giving it a name?”

She hesitated, running her fingers through the pup’s fur.  The dog still had its eyes on Nathan.  “Seether,” she finally decided and he rolled his eyes in a scoff.

“Fitting,” he grumbled, turning his back on her, as if to show that he meant to have nothing to do with the pup.  “Just don’t fall asleep,” and then did just that, drifting to the sound of a happy pup’s panting and thumping tail.  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


	3. The Stranger

Nathan was awoken what seemed like immediately by a wet, rough and very slobbery tongue lapping at his face.  He gagged and sputtered, rolling over as he wiped the hell hound drool from his lips, sending the pup an evil glare.  During the middle of the night, it had left the safety of Ember’s side to come and cuddle up next to Nathan.  As if he wanted a gross monster dog giving him kisses.  And as Nathan guessed, he was covered with stiff, black dog hair the size of hedgehog spines.  “Go away, dog,” he muttered, standing.  He turned to Ember and scowled.  So much for keeping watch.  She was passed out on the ground, curled up in her jacket with her fingers wrapped tightly around the fabric of her shirt.  With a frown, he approached her with hesitation.  She was having a nightmare.  

He whined in her sleep, her fists clenching and unclenching around the shirt balled in her fingers, sweat dripping down her face.  He knelt down beside her and gave her a shake and immediately she jerked awake, eyes wild.  He wondered if that was what he always looked like whenever she woke him up from a nightmare.  Nightmares.  They were far too common for the pair.  “What was it about?” he asked curiously after she’d settled, and she looked to him hesitantly.

“I...I don’t know.  I heard an explosion.  Saw fire.  That’s about it, it was really blurry.”  She shrugged helplessly.

“I had a weird one a few days ago,” Nathan said.  But he chose to tell the story another time.  For now, they had to get going, and soon.  They couldn’t linger about for too long.  He stood and stretched, arching his spine backwards.  “I wish that old bat told us why we had to go to the academy,” he muttered as he tied his own jacket around his waist. 

“Me too.  Maybe she knows someone there?” Ember knelt down, one hand scratching Seether behind his ears and the other grabbing Nathan’s scarf off the ground, handing it to him tenderly.  He took the scarf gratefully and curled it around his throat, thanking her.  “Let’s try to hitch a ride.”  

So out into the street they went.  Hanging on the edge of the highway, every time a car or a truck appeared over the horizon, its form blurry from the heat, they would do everything they could to catch their attention.  These antics ranged from jerking their thumb up like they wanted to shove it up someone’s butt to jumping up and down, waving their jackets.  Like any sane civilian however, the drivers pretended they didn’t exist, flying past them and down the highway.  

After the fifth one passed them by, Nathan gave a heavy sigh and plopped down onto the ground, resting his head in his hand.  “We’re losing daylight.  Maybe we should just start walking.”

“And reach the Academy in a month?” Ember snapped, impatient now as she squinted down the highway.  

“Better than wasting our time here.”

Seether caught their attention as a low growl began to roll from the back of his throat.  Hackles raised and his claws burrowing into the ground, he took position behind Ember’s legs and upon a second glance a grin split her face.  “Another!” she said, pointing and Nathan frowned.  A pickup was rolling their way.  “One more try, come on, Nathan.”

“You go ahead,” Nathan muttered.  “I’m good sitting here.”

Ember called out to the driver, flapping her and Nathan’s jackets like a grounded bird, and to Nathan’s amazement the pickup slowed, coming to a stop beside the pair.  The window rolled down, and sitting inside was your typical redneck guy.  Stocky in shape with a goofy smile, cigar lit between his lips and a flannel shirt covering up his gorilla chest.  He stuck his head towards the passenger window, craning to look at them.  

“Good mornin’,” he said, nodding in greeting.

“Morning,” Ember exhaled and she took a step forward.  “I’m so sorry, but I was wondering if you were heading towards Colorado Springs?  Or if you aren’t, if you could take us as close as you can?”

Nathan looked down at Seether.  Another growl came from the mutt who was snarling up at the man, fur up and rigid, teeth showing.  Nathan stroked a soothing hand down the dog’s spine and it melted under his touch.  The redneck however spotted the dog and gaped at it.  “What kind o’ dog is that?” he asked.  

Nathan and Ember glanced at one another.  “It’s uh....an Irish wolf hound - black lab mix,” Nathan bullshitted.  

The redneck rolled the cigar over his tongue as he examined the hound for a long  moment.  Finally he shrugged dismissively.  “Big fella.  What are you lookin’ for in Colorado?”

“We need to get to the Airforce Academy,” Ember completely missed the dark look that Nathan cast her way.  “We don’t have a way to get there though...” she hung her head and twirled the ends of her hair sorrowfully.  Nathan suppressed a smirk.  She was definitely playing this guy.  

“Springs,” he gave a grin.  “I’m goin there.  Get yer hound in the back and you two can file in next to me!”

Maybe Nathan was overly paranoid and suspicious.  But this seemed too easy.  He tried to express his distress through a frown to Ember, but she didn’t seem to notice, she was too busy thanking the man.  The dog appeared to agree.  It gave another growl before Nathan beckoned it into the back of the pickup, and the hound half heartedly leaped up and laid down.  He kept a close watch on the redneck through the glass window as Nathan slid in beside him, Ember taking the door side.  

“So how old are you kids?” asked the stranger across Nathan to Ember, who was easily more approachable.  Nathan scowled.  These two were going to be chatting back and forth across him this whole trip.  He was reminded of a similar scene from Dumb and Dumber.  

“We’re both seventeen, he’s almost eighteen,” she played with Nathan’s hair and he smacked her hand away, looking ahead with his jaw set. 

“So what’s your name?” Ember asked, putting her feet up on the dash, a typical Ember thing to do.  The stranger didn’t seem to mind.  He beamed at her.  

“Nixon,” he said, as if sharing some kind of joke.  “What about you two?”

This time, Ember hesitated and looked to Nathan for silent advice.  She took note of his hard look and gave the man a smile.  “I’m Joey,” she said.  “And this is Brandon.”

“What were you two doin’ out here anyways,” Nixon asked, rolling his cigar between his teeth. The smoke curled around their heads and Nathan gave an irritated cough, glowering at the man and his jaw twitched.  

“Why do you care-”

“Don’t be rude, _Brandon_ ,” Ember said, casting him a sharp look.  “We broke down.”  

As the two continued to chat back and forth, small talk really, Nathan felt a chill slither down his spine.  A familiar chill.  There was something wrong here.  Behind his head he could hear Seether’s snarling, the dog hadn’t stopped since they got into the pickup.  He shot the stranger a prying look, studying the man’s face.  His eyes were a light amber.  But there was something off. And like a veil being lifted, the more he looked, the more was revealed to him.  The man’s amber eyes began to swirl, until they were like black, empty voids.  

Nathan jerked his elbow to the side, cracking it along the man’s jaw and he howled in pain, rubbing his face.  Ember screamed at him.  He didn’t wait to answer, leaning over her lap he opened the door and whistled.  

As if it could read his mind, the hound leaped off the edge of the truck that was now slowing down as the man recovered.  Running alongside the pickup, he rammed his fingers downwards, unbuckling Ember, sent her an apologetic look then grabbed her sleeve and wrenched her out.  And just as he expected, Seether immediately caught her on his back, the two tumbling to the ground as the pickup raced forward.  

Nathan was just about to follow when he felt the man’s rough hands wrap around his throat.  Nathan gagged and tried to twist from the man’s grasp, but the grip on his neck grew tighter until he gasped for breath. “Nathaniel Barrow,” growled the man, inky black now running down his arms, like it was rushing beneath his skin.  “I sense your father in you.”  He could almost hear the smirk in the creature’s voice.  

Nathan froze, his heart leaping into his throat.  “My fa-” he began, before the man cut off his words by fastening his grip.  

“Yes, your father.  He’s really quite the grump.  I would tell you more about him, and perhaps I can.  My master wants you alive, if you can believe it.  The girl as well...oh most definitely the girl.  Ah, but she can be collected later.”  

He had to escape.  Had to get away.  But how?  He began to tear at the man’s arms with his nails desperately, struggling to get away and only just heard the man whisper goodnight before a dagger flashed before his eyes, the pommel cracking down against his skull, and there was darkness.  

  
  


And darkness was what he woke to.  It was engulfing, completely surrounding him, choking him.  He sat up, his eyes burning as they quickly adjusted to the dakrness.  There was a cold that clung to his body and he shivered, curling up and wrapped his arms around his legs, resting his chin between his knees.  Where was he?  

Standing up shakily he glanced about.  Still too dark to see anything.  “Hello?” he called out into the black.  There was no response at first, just his own voice bouncing off the walls.  It sounded like he was in a cave.  He hesitated, about to move forward when a voice stopped him in his tracks.  

“So you’re awake.” 

Nathan spun frantically, trying to find the source of the voice.  He might as well have been everywhere, his voice lept off the walls and reverberated around him like a cage.  

“Who are you?” Nathan demanded, swallowing the tremor that threatened to tumble through his voice.  There was a cold laugh.  

“I suppose you can call me a shadow,” mused the voice.  This time, it came from the back of Nathan’s head and he groaned, holding it in his hands, digging his nails into his own skull.  “I was created entirely from the misery of a mortal.  And once it was touched by a little bit of darkness, my master, I was born.”  

“What do you want from me?”  Nathan’s eyes were kept shut.  There was no point in opening them.  

“Oh, I want nothing.  But my master, he is very keen on having you and your friend.  He sent his own son to retrieve the both of you but...well.  I couldn’t miss my chance at glory...not when the Son of Hades steps so willingly into my grasp.”

Son of Hades.  He had heard that before.  And the master, darkness... “Erebos...” he whispered.  “Your master, that man, he was in my dream-”

“That  _ man?”  _ Shrill laughter echoed in Nathan’s mind and he cringed.  “You still don’t know, do you?  Ah, the master will be pleased.  He was worried, too.  I could tell, I could see it in his eye.  Children of Hades, no they are not to be trifled with, not at all.  But you...you are  _ pathetic. _ ”  Nathan’s hands turned to fists.  “You don’t even know who you  _ are,  _ do you, boy?   _ What _ you are?”

Nathan grated his teeth.  “I am Nathaniel Barrow, and I-”

“Yes, yes, I’m well aware,” the shadow sounded annoyed now.  There was a brief quiet, then the sound of hands being slapped together very brisk like.  “Would you look at the time.  I have to run, and collect that friend of yours.  I’ll be back soon to deliver you to my master.  Farewell, Nathaniel Barrow.”

Silence.  Silence and darkness.  

Nathan moaned, slowly sitting back down.  “Damn it,” he whispered, running a hand through his hair.  He had to find a way to get out of there.  He couldn’t just sit down, he had to find Ember and Seether, they were in danger.  Taking a deep breath, he stood and tried to peer into the darkness but it was in vain.  It was too thick.  

So he started walking.  As he stumbled through the dark, he thought back to what the creature had said.  Son of Hades.  He was a son of Hades?  No, that was impossible.  His father bolted when he was a baby and his mother was dead.  He was an orphan.  A nobody.  And Hades...Hades was a god.  Branberry had plenty of books and encyclopedias about Greek Mythology, and Ember always read them to him when he got bored.  Hades was the God of death, and King of the Underworld.

“Tsch,” he found himself muttering.  “Then I should be right at home here.” The son of a darkness god that couldn’t see in the dark.  That was a laugh.  

His face smacked into something hard and he groaned, lifting one hand to tend to his nose while the other rose to feel at what he’d just bashed into.  A wall.  It was rough, like stone.  Good.  He was getting somewhere.  He felt along the wall until he found the indent of a door, then the handle.  And of course, it was locked.  

Nathan kept his hand wrapped around the door, watching the darkness.  That was it.  He couldn’t get out.  Exhaling, he closed his eyes and turned around, sliding his back down along the wall until he was sitting on the ground.  There was no way out of here.  

He was trapped.   

 

“I  _ know _ I should have known!” Ember shouted at the hound.  It was lying down, its head resting on his paws and watching her like she was an idiot.  She knew she was.  She had been so eager to get going, to get out of there and to the Academy.  The only thing that had been on her mind was getting back home to Mrs. Wilson and the other children....she completely ignored the possibility of danger.  Nathan knew.  How....she had no idea.  Either way, they were both gone.  As soon as they reached the truck, she only just spotted the pair before they up and disappeared in swirling darkness.  

Now, she paced irritably around the abandoned car that sat in the middle of the street.  

“What are you looking at,” she muttered to Seether, plopping down beside him.  Seether cocked his head, giving a whine.   _ So, what’s the plan, _ he seemed to be asking.  

“You’re one of those hell hounds,” she said.  “What would you do?”

Seether wasted no time.  He stood up and the pup started down the road to a big billboard, which showed a cop pointing a finger, scowling and the words plastered above him, “ _ Click-It or Ticket!”   _

“What’s over there?” Ember asked curiously as the dog strode towards it, following him briskly.  Was there a clue?  Did they leave something behind?  Maybe a secret passage?  But no.  She halted as the hellhound walked over to the shadows of the billboard.  Ember heaved a sigh.  She couldn’t blame him.  It was hot, and Seether was probably burning underneath all that thick fur.  Still, lounging around in the shade wasn’t going to get Nathan back.  

“Yeah, that’s helpful,” Ember said as the dog began to pace.  “But this isn’t going to help.” 

The dog lay down, his tongue rolling out of his mouth and he slapped his tail excitedly on the grass.  Ember gave another sigh and stepped over, sitting down beside the mutt and leaned back into his fur.  “We need to get him.”  Gods, she felt so guilty.  Nathan had said it was a bad idea, but she still made him get into the pickup.  And she did nothing as Nathan heaved her out of the truck.  “Thanks for the catch by the way,” she whispered finally, her pale fingers brushing along the hound’s back.  Paused, then laughed to herself.  She was going nuts.  She was talking to a dog.  

Seether suddenly stood, and Ember slipped off his back and gazed up at him.  “Seether? What’s wrong?” she asked, standing.  Seether was pacing now, panting roughly.  His body was trembling.  Was he having a seizure?  “Seether, are you okay, boy?”  she grasped onto his fur, and immediately shadows sprang and exploded from his body.  She gasped,  the shade cast by the billboard deepened and darkened.  “Seether, what’s going-” she started, but she was cut off as they were completely engulfed in shadow.  It was suffocating.  

Suddenly she was flying, shooting through a tunnel of black, with whispers and hisses and shapes flashing by her, silhouettes of shadow.  She screamed, her voice ripped away, left behind in darkness.  Her fingers tangled into Seether’s fur and she pressed her face into his back.  Suddenly, it was gone.  

The wind, the whispers.  But the darkness remained.  

“Seether,” Ember gasped, her body shaking as she fell to her knees.  “What the hell did you-”

“Ember?”

Ember’s heart dropped into her stomach as she quickly stood, spinning around.  “Nathan?” she asked into the darkness.  “Where are you?”

“I’m here.”  A hand grasped her arm and she exhaled, closing her eyes.  Blindly she leaped out, wrapping her arms around his neck.  She felt his body tense with hesitation, then his arms hooked around her, pulling her close.  “Where are we?” she whispered, and she could feel him shake his head.  

“I don’t know.”  Hesitated.  There was something wrong.

“Nathan?  What is it?”

“How did you get here.  Did the shadow- the man find you?” 

“What? No, it was Seether, somehow.  He like...traveled through the shadows or something.”

Nathan moved away, and she could feel his hand grip her arm tightly.  “Ember, we have to get out of here, now,” he said.  There was panic in his voice.  Seether pressed against her leg.”  

“Nathan, what’s going on?”

“Ember Carsons.” The voice whispered into her ear, and she froze, her voice thick in her throat.  “So glad you could join us.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


	4. Flames in the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The image below is of Nathan and Seether. The image was drawn for this fan fiction, do not copy or replicate.   
> Image Source: http://shadowofolympus.deviantart.com/art/Nathaniel-Barrow-467842836

 

Ember heard a low growl from beside her, then a soft whimper as the hellhound proceeded to hide behind the pair.  Ember gritted her teeth.  She wasn’t going to show this thing fear.  She pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.  “How about you let us see you,” she spoke into the darkness.  “Unless you’re too scared.”

The laughter grated against her bones, making her want to sink into a hole and never crawl back out.  “Ah, a typical hero,” the voice chided.  “So willing to boast and brag...with no skills to back it up.  I assume you know nothing of your parentage, either?”

Ember blinked.  What did her parents have to do with anything?  They were both dead.  What did this man want?  Or she at least assumed it was a man.  The voice was masculine but there was something...off about it.  

“My parents are none of your business,” she spat angrily.  “So you can go fu-”

She didn’t even hear him coming.  Only felt the blow as the smack came at her face.  She felt the shape and texture of a hand crashing against her cheek.  But it was more like getting hit by a baseball bat being used by a giant.  She spun, flipping around in midair and her head cracked against the cave wall, a gasp escaping through her lips as she sank down to the ground. 

“Ember!”  She could hear Nathan stumbling around in the dark, trying to find her.  

“And the stupidity of a hero,” the voice said.  “The master will be pleased.  A son of Hades, and a daughter of Hecate...perfection.”  And there was silence.

Nathan’s hand found her arm.  The darkness was swimming before her, and her head ached.  She felt Nathan’s hand press up against her head and he recoiled it with a hiss.  “You’re bleeding.”  

“I’m fine,” Ember muttered, a lie of course, but that didn’t stop Nathan.  She heard the shredding of fabric.  He’d just ripped his shirt.  She winced as he pressed it against her bleeding scalp and she cast her eyes downwards.  “Thanks.”

“You need to learn when to keep your mouth shut,” Nathan muttered, dabbing his makeshift bandage against her head.  It was sticky with blood.  Ember gave a roll of her eyes, smiling weakly.  

“You wish,” she whispered.  She sat up, batting Nathan away and rubbed the back of her head.  She could hear Seether panting beside them, brushing his big head up against her leg with worry and she moved her hand down, immediately calming as her fingers tangled with his thick fur.  “Now, will you answer my questions?  Who was that?  Do you know where we are?” 

“I don’t know.”  Nathan sounded frustrated.  “But...I mean, the Greek Gods have something to do with it.  Yeah, surprise, right?  Considering everything that’s happened...I mean, I don’t think that we’re  _ actually _ the son and daughter of Hades, but they’re definitely involved.  Maybe this is some kind of crazy cult?”

“I agree.” 

“We need to get out of here.”

“We can’t  _ see,  _ Nathan.  We’ll be running into walls for hours.  And that freak will be back here before we can-”

“Can you still do it?”

Ember froze. Her eyes drifted over to where she knew Nathan was sitting beside her, and her fingers suddenly turned cold.  She knew exactly what he was talking about.  But he knew damn well she swore never to use it again...not after she almost killed one of the kids living at the orphanage.  Mrs. Wilson made her swear to it.  “No,” she whispered, curling up.  She wrapped her arms around her knees and they sat in silence.

Nathan didn’t say anything for a while.  The darkness pressed in on them, and finally his voice sounded from beside her.  “Ember.  They’re going to kill us if we can’t escape.  Just this once.  Just so we can see.  Then you never have to use it again.  I promise.”

Ember stared hard at the ground, took a deep breath and nodded firmly.  “All right,” she said.  “But you owe me.  And you are so taking watch tonight.”  She heard dry laughter as she stood up.  Her legs felt shaky.  She closed her eyes, and she focused.  On passion.  On anger.  On the warmth that grows in your gut whenever you’re about to rage flip a table or scream at someone.  She tore into herself and extended her hand, her palm facing outwards.  Warmth. Heat.  Focus.  

She felt a tug inside her gut, and immediately green flames began to lick along her fingertips.  It lit up Nathan’s face, who was kneeling right in front of her.  He looked proud, and he gave a grim nod.  “Good job,” he said.  “A little brighter.  I can’t see.”  Ember nodded, drawing more energy towards the flames that lashed out from her fingers.  It was a gift she’d had since she was a child.  A gift she always tried to forget. 

The flames leapt and danced around her hand, illuminating the room.  They were in a cave.  The only tunnels that she could see were at least ten feet up off the ground, small, and led into total darkness.  “That’s our ticket out of here,” she said.  What were the tunnels doing there anyways?  She gestured up at them, and when Nathan spotted the openings he gave a nod.  

With the hellhound at their feet, they made their way over to the base of one of the tunnels.  Ember frowned.  It was pretty high up.  “All right.”  Nathan leaped up, trying to catch his hand on the ledge.  He was three feet off.  He cursed.  “Okay, stand on my shoulders,” he said, crouching down near the base.

“Nathan, I’m going to break your back.”

“Do it, Ember.”

Ember frowned.  She hated being told what to do but she nodded.  Nathan knelt down and, wobbly, she placed her feet on his shoulders.  He stood up slowly, grunting as he did so. Extinguishing the flame in her hand so that she could grasp onto the ledge with both, she bit her lip, reaching up and grasped the edge of the tunnel’s ledge.  “I have it,” she said, and heaved herself up.  

“Great.  Now get me up.”  

“Uh.  I don’t think I can reach you,” Ember noted, leaning out of the tunnel as she illuminated her hand again, peering down at Nathan.  He was scowling up tat her.  

“Hold on.  I have an idea.”  He gave a sharp whistle and immediately, Seether came bounding to his side.  Nathan brought the hound over to the base of the tunnel ledge.  “Stay here, boy,” he said.  

“What are you doing?” Ember asked.

“Getting a lift up.”  He stepped onto the dog’s back, balanced himself then vaulted upwards.  His hand only just caught the ledge, but before he could slip off Ember grasped his arm and pulled him up beside her.  “Thanks,” he muttered.  A whimper sounded from below and the two looked down over the edge.  Seether had his head lying flat on the ground, his tail sweeping sorrowfully across the floor as he gazed up at them with longing eyes.  

“We can’t leave him here,” Ember said, looking over at Nathan.  

“How did you two get in here anyways?”

“We teleported.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.  Then he can teleport out of here.  Let’s go.”  Without a second look down at the dog, Nathan stood up and started down the tunnel.  That was cold.  Ember glared after him.  She turned back to Seether.  

“Come on, boy,” she urged.  “Get up here?”

Seether looked exhausted. He stay on his belly, gazing up at her.  He must be too tired.  He looked wiped when they first teleported inside...he must not be able to. “Ember!” Nathan snapped from further down the tunnel.  Ember sighed, blowing the hound a kiss from her pale lips.  “Find us,” she whispered, then stood and followed after Nathan.  

The tunnel was crudely cut, like it was carved into the earth by spoons and forks.  It angled upwards, wide enough for a bus to squeeze through with only an inch of space.  “What do you think these are for?” Nathan voiced.  His face glowed green from the lights of Ember’s flames, eyes trained forward.  Ember gave a helpless shrug.  Her heart was fluttering in her chest, and she was relieved Nathan was managing to keep himself together for the pair of them.  With their big guard dog now missing, she felt exposed.  

She missed Branberry.  Letting her eyes drift downwards, she gave a sigh, thinking back to her home.  To the melting pot of children’s voices that was a constant hum in the background, even during the times she desperately just wanted quiet.  To the scent of cookies that would sift through the kitchen, summoning waves of children to the dining room.  Even the cranky old woman that smelled of prunes and old perfume.  She missed it all.  

“Are you okay?”

Ember looked over.  Nathan was watching her, his eyes furrowed.  

“Yeah, I’m fi-” she started, then watched as Nathan arched a brow disbelievingly.  Huffing, she looked ahead again, red rising on her cheeks.  “I just miss home,” she whispered.  

“Oh.”  Ember glanced over.  That little oh sounded a bit choked.  Nathan was chewing on the inside of his lip, something he always did when he was distressed.  “Don’t worry,” he said finally.  “We’ll make our way back.  Once we get to the Academy, I mean.” 

Their footsteps echoed as they treaded down the tunnel.  Nathan was right.  They’d get to the Airforce Academy, tell them...whatever it was Mrs. Wilson wanted them to tell then go home.  Back to the others.  Flames still licked her fingers, illuminating the black in jade.  She looked over.  Nathan was watching her and she smirked.  “What are you looking at?”

“Oh, nothing.  Just some chick controlling fire,” Nathan said, his eyes dashing down to the flames around her fingers.  “How do you even do it, Ember? I mean, that right there might be enough to convince me of this god stuff.”

Ember hesitated.  Honestly, she didn’t know  _ how  _ she did it...she just did.  And she didn’t want to explain that it was a process that involved digging into her hidden rage and hate.  So she rolled her shoulder.  “I don’t know,” she said half honestly.  

He nodded, regardless of the confusion that was still etched onto his features.  “I want powers,” he said with a grin.  “Maybe the power to make everything around me silent.  Wouldn’t that be great back at the orphanage?”

“Or maybe just the power to make yourself quiet.”

“That’s actually within the realm of possibility, but I much prefer to bitch.”

“Awe, maybe you’re actually the son of the god of bitching, Natty!”

“Also within the realm of possibility.  Turning invisible would be pretty lit too thou-” he stopped himself as she suddenly thrust her free hand in front of him, stopping him.  “What’s wrong?” he hissed.  

“I heard something.”  Ember cocked her head, straining to focus.  Wings.  “Hide!” she whispered.  The two looked about desperately for a place to duck down into.  The wings were coming closer.  Ember extinguished her flames, grabbing Nathan’s shirt and yanked him down towards the wall, the both of them crouching down.  For a moment there was silence, even their panting diminished down into a panicked quiet.  

Then, the sound came again.  Wings, like that of an enormous bat or pterodactyl that flew overhead.  Multiple of them, and she could feel the breeze as they flapped their wings.  Resisting a whimper, she buried her face into Nathan’s shirt as he covered her protectively.  

The wings suddenly slowed down and there was a sound, like a gargled, chattering choke.  “What do you smell?” came a voice, scratchy, high pitched and rough.

“Meats,” came the simple response.  “I smell meats...those children in the chamber.  I want their meats.”

They finished their exchange, then passed overhead.  They remained still until she felt Nathan’s hand rest on her shoulder.  “Are you okay?” he whispered.  

“Yeah.”  What were those things?  They weren’t human, that much was for sure.  “We need to keep moving.”  She picked herself up, willing her hands not to shake.

“Wait.”  Nathan stood up beside her.  “Do you feel that?”  Ember felt it was safe enough to bring back her light.  Igniting her fingertips, she looked to his face.  He was facing the tunnel, eyes closed.  Feel what?  Then a breeze brushed down the tunnel, sliding against her body and she exhaled.  Faint, but it was there.  “The end of the tunnel.”  He grinned.  “Come on.”

Walking as swiftly as they could without making too much noise they started down the tunnel, a red light growing in the dark.  Holding their hands over their eyes, they stepped into the fading daylight.  The tall, green grass was gone, replaced by massive red stone formations.  Rocks that were jutting out of the ground like little spires.  Dried out, green bushes and spindly trees were clustered between the spires and in the distance, she could see mountains piercing up into the sky.  

Stumbling into the light, Ember looked back.  The tunnel was at the base of one of these formations.  The sky was painted in red and orange.  She couldn’t tell if it was morning or evening.  “Where do you think we are?” she wondered out loud.  Hearing a low moan, she twisted around.  Nathan had sat down, leaning his head against the stone wall behind him.  He was about to pass out. 

“Oh no you don’t,” she said.  She kicked his leg.  “We need to keep going.”

“Ugh, for fu- come on, Ember,” Nathan whined jadedly.  “We’re out.  We’re safe.  Why can’t we sleep, even just for an hour.”  

Ember knelt down next to him.  “Because eventually, those goons will figure out we’re gone. We shouldn’t be here when they do.”  She stood, glancing about.  They weren’t too far from a little dirt road.  There was a flat stone standing upwards, its surface had words carved into it.  Leaving Nathan’s side, she strolled to the edge of the road, gazing at the rocky sign.  She pursed her lips, focusing to let her dyslexia fade enough to read.  The letters swam, until finally she could make it out.

“ _ The Garden of the Gods,”  _ she read.  

“So we’re in Colorado Springs.”  She looked over.  Nathan had stepped up next to her with a frown.  She stared at him, and catching it he scowled.  “I  _ do _ read, you know.  Mythology books can get boring after a while,” he defended.  “And that means we’re close to the Academy.”

“But which way?” The pair looked up and down the road.  There were no cities in sight.  Just mountains that surrounded them, a couple capped with snow.  “I guess we could always ask,” she mused, looking down the road.  

“Who the hell are we going to ask?”

“Them.”  She pointed down the road and Nathan twisted around, the two of them watching as a minivan came up over the hill.  It looked like your average family, but after their recent experience the two were on their toes.  She could see a mother, a father and the waving hands of a couple brats in the back behind shaded windows.  

She let Nathan take charge.  He stepped forward, waving.  Amazingly they slowed down, ignoring the fact that his shirt was torn and they both looked like they’d been dragged across the desert.  The father rolled down his window and stuck his head out, concerned.  “Are you kids all right?” he asked.  

“We’re fine.  Do you happen to know which way the Airforce Academy is?” 

The man nodded, jerking a thumb in the direction that he and his family just came from.  “Sure do.  It’s an hour that way...do you kids need a lift?”

“ _ No.”  _ The pair shouted it it simultaneously.  The man raised a brow, looking at his wife helplessly who shrugged.  “If you say so.  Be safe.”  Rolling up his window, the family drove forward and between a couple spires then disappeared.  

“On second thought,” Ember said, watching the direction that the man pointed in.  “An hour drive is a long time to walk.  Maybe we  _ should _ get some sleep.”

“You read my mind.”  Nathan yawned.  “Let’s find a good place to get some shut eye - preferably away from the tunnel.”

The two split up, searching among the rock foundations, bushes and brambled until they found a nice little corner.  It was hidden by brush, and the rock formation stretched out over it like a roof.  “Here,” Ember called.  Nathan, whom had been scraping his hand along a redstone arch nodded and stepped over, flopping down.  

The pair curled up against one another, and Ember shivered.  “Cold?” Nathan murmured, and Ember shook her head. A lie.  It was chilly and freezing.  She wanted to light a fire, but decided against it.  They had no idea where those creatures were, and they weren't too keen on being dragged back down into that hell hole.  

“I miss Seether.”

She didn’t expect a response.  Nathan never seemed too fond of the pup.  So she was surprised when he exhaled and nodded in agreement.  “Yeah.  Me too...I hope he’s okay.”

“Do you think they’re still alive?”

“Who?” Nathan asked, looking down at her.  Ember sighed, sitting up, their shoulders now barely touching.  

“Mrs. Wilson and the others.”

“Oh.”  Nathan brought his eyes away from her, training them upwards.  Ember followed his gaze.  With the sun having finally hidden over the horizon, the blackness was now alight with stars, like a jet of light pierced into a crystal and a kaleidoscope of stars stretched out over the sky.  She heard him sigh and she glanced over at him, and gave a small smile.  

In the starlight and darkness, her stomach gave a small flutter.  She’d forgotten how handsome he’d become.  She remembered when he first arrived at the orphanage.  He’d been so quiet.  Thin and scrawny.  And she’d probably been the bane of existence, never leaving him alone.  She always asked him questions, who he was, where he came from.  Until she realized her questions made him uncomfortable. He’d grown so much since then.  

“I don’t think they’re dead,” he said finally, his dark eyes reflecting the starlight.  “Mrs. Wilson...she knew what she was doing.  What those hell hounds were, how to handle them.  And she kicked ass.  Besides, those hell hounds followed us.  I don’t think they would have gone back.  They’re safe.”

“And what about us?”

At first she didn’t think he heard her.  He had settled down, quiet for a long while.  Maybe he was ignoring her.  She wanted an answer, some reassurance through her own doubt that everything would be okay, that they would make it to the Academy alive.  “Go to sleep,” he said quietly.  

Ignoring it is, then.  She heaved a sigh.  That answered her question well enough.  He didn’t think they would make it.  Always the pessimist.  “Whatever,” she muttered, closing her eyes.  Paused, then grinned and rolled over, nudging him.  “You’re taking watch,” she reminded the boy, laughing as she heard him curse and shuffle to sit up again as Ember settled down into sleep.  


	5. The Wind Gods

Nathan had always loved watching the sun rise and set over the horizon.

The way that the striped twilights and dawns turned the sky into a mural of colours, ranging from purples to oranges to reds.  A painting that the hands of man would never be able to mimic.  It was gorgeous.  But as Nathan leaned against the redstone, watching the sun rise up from the darkness, he felt something was....off.  The sun normally rose up in the East like a candle in the dark, the West shadowed, not yet touched by it's luminous rays.  

But this time...the sun almost looked veiled.  Like he was peering at it through sunglasses.  Faded and darkened.  Nathan narrowed his eyes and sighed, standing.  He was so tired.  He let Ember have the night to sleep, and spending all night on watch was definitely not an easy thing to accomplish.  He managed it by worrying through the long hours of the night. Questioning.  

Would they make it out of here alive?  Where the hell was Seether?  Would he be able to protect Ember?  Why did they have to go to the Academy in the first place?

And now, he was worrying if there was something wrong with the sun.  He was pretty sure he was just going crazy.  Of course there was nothing wrong with the sun.  It’s the sun.  Probably just his eyes adjusting to being in darkness.  

Now that the sun was finally up though, it was time to wake the witch.  He bent over, giving the girl’s shoulder a shake and almost immediately, her soft voices sounded from her figure.  “I’m awake,” she whispered as his hand barely grazed over her shoulder to give it a shake.  

Nathan retracted his hand, frowning.  “You’ve been awake this whole time and you still made me be on watch?” he growled.  “I could have been sleeping!”

“I wanted you to stay awake with me.”

Nathan hesitated.  She sounded..tired.  Not in the physical manner.  Just drained.  He watched her for a moment before he sighed and stood.  “Well...it’s time to get moving,” he muttered.  “So get up and you know, get ready.”  Not like they had anything to do in order to get ready.  They had no provisions.  All the same though she stood up tiredly and disappeared behind a couple of rusty red rocks.  

Nathan leaned against an arch, his neck curved as he watched the sun, eyes narrowed.  When Ember returned, he nodded towards it.  “Does it look different to you?” he asked. He blushed.  He probably sounded nuts.  But he had to know...it was like a pull in his gut telling him something was wrong.  

Ember strode up beside him with a frown, looking towards the sun.  She watched it for a long moment, her green eyes reflecting against the rising sun with glints of amber.  “Yeah,” she agreed finally.  “It’s darker.”

Nathan exhaled with relief.  All right, so he wasn’t losing it.  “What the hell do you think it is?” he asked.  “An eclipse?”  He knew the suggestion was dumb.  He knew what an eclipse looked like, but it was the only realistic thing he could think of.

Ember shook her head.  “No.  It’s not covered, it just looks like the light itself is-”

“Veiled.”

“Yeah.”

The two hushed like a silencing chill washed over them, watching the horizon side by side.  Nathan twined his fingers in the fabric of his scarf, mindlessly twisting it around his hand.  “We should get going,” he said.  He glanced back towards their little nest and shook his head with exasperation.  “We didn’t even move away from the entrance.  That was pretty stupid.  They could be coming up any moment to find us.”  He looked in the direction that the family had pointed in the day before.  “And we go North.  The Airforce Academy is literally right next to the Garden of the Gods.  We could just walk to it.”  He paused, then chuckled.  The Garden of the Gods.  These coincidences were popping up all over the place.  

Ember nodded.  “Good.  I’m so sick of walking.”

 

The summer sunlight cast down upon the blonde in warming rays, heating up his skin comfortably.  He lay sprawled out on the roof of a small house, his eyes closed as the glow warmed his face.  The morning was already busy with his classmates rushing off to start their morning routines, voices sounding from the Academy.  The blonde, however, was a bit of a procrastinator.  And why not?  They couldn’t expel him even if they wanted to.  

He opened his blue eyes, gazing up at the clouds.  Wispy and white like scarves they wove their way across the sky.  They weren’t natural clouds.  They were trails left by jets and planes.  He didn’t know it by practically living in a hangar.  He could feel it.  

“Austin!”

The blonde groaned and rolled over, gazing down over the edge of his roof.  A man stood in the grass, gazing up at him with a furious scowl, donned in his uniform and his hands resting on his hips.  “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Taking a nap.”

“Get your ass down and get to work.  Your father-”

“My  _ father _ is way too busy to deal with me right now.  But don’t worry, I’ll get on it, don’t worry.”  He gave a dismissive wave of his hand.  The man’s face screwed up in a series of frustrated features before he growled and stormed off.  

Austin chuckled and settled back into his cozy little spot.  He didn’t even know why he was here.  His father insisted, despite Austin having no interest in the Air Force at all.  When would he be allowed to take off?

He heard the snap of a twig and he immediately sat up, all his senses lighting up simultaneously.  His hand fled to the knife at his belt.  It likely wasn’t necessary.  Chances were it was just a tourist sneaking up through the academy’s housing units to get a better look at the base.  And yet, something felt off.  

He slid down from the edge of the roof, landing nimbly on his feet.  Still gripping the knife in hand, he pressed his back against the wall of his home, eyes narrowed as he peered around the corner.  Behind his house were thick woods, and he peered into the thick brush, his finger running up and down along the edge of his blade.  His bronze blade, at that.  

Then he saw them.  Two figures.  A girl, and a boy, black haired, bruised and battered.  He smirked, sheathing his blade.  Not monsters.  Newbies.  

This was going to be fun.  

 

“That’s gotta be it.”  

Nathan and Ember were crouched in the bushes, and he pointed into the distance at a building.  From a distance, it looked pretty awesome.  It looked like a bunch of white spires leaning against one another, forming a tunnel or a long tent.  He wondered what it looked like from the inside.  

“Do you think they’ll just let us walk in?” Ember asked with a frown.  “I mean, Mrs. Wilson made it sound like they would invite us in but I’m still worried.  I mean, this  _ is  _ a military acadmey.  

“I’m not sure,” Nathan muttered.  He watched the building for a long moment.  They had to get moving soon, they were right near the housing units for the Academy’s students.  They didn’t want to be seen.  “Maybe we should just-”

“What the hell are you doing here?” 

The two leaped up as a young man strode towards them from the direction of the nearest home.  He was probably a couple years older than them, twenty maybe, with wavy blonde hair and light blue eyes.  And Nathan immediately picked out the knife that was obviously displayed at his hip.  This guy could definitely kick their asses, especially considering he was nothing but a sheet of muscle.  

Nathan was about to come up with an excuse as to why they were sneaking about, when he glanced at Ember and swallowed.  Uh oh.  She was about to blow.  She looked pissed, and like she was about to burst into flame as she marched out of the woods and towards the guy.  The stranger’s eyes widened as she approached like she was going to rip his head off.  

She gave the guy a hard shove and he stumbled back a few steps, gathering himself while she spat, “Don’t you  _ dare  _ ‘what the hell’ us.  And I swear to God - or Gods, whatever - if you try to arrest us I will incinerate you.  You have. No. Idea. What we’ve been through to get here so you’d bett-murh!” 

Nathan grabbed her, placing his hand over her mouth and she squirmed, trying to escape his grasp.  “Don’t mind her,” he muttered.  He looked down at Ember.  “Are you going to behave?”

She jabbed him in the ribs and he jolted, releasing her and she scrambled away.  “Firstly,” she growled.  “Don’t touch me. Secondly,” she jerked a finger towards the new dude.  “You.  You’d better-” 

“Can I just talk?” the guy laughed.  He looked way too amused for comfort.  “Look.  I know what you two are.  Demigods, right?” 

Ember and Nathan shot each other panicked looks. They were getting ready to bolt before the guy raised his hands disarmingly, taking a step forward.  “Don’t freak!  I’m one, too.  I’m Austin.  This place, it’s where demigods go to...” he trailed off.  His blue eyes passed between their faces, and a confused frown slipped onto his features.  “...wait.  Do you guys even know what a demigod is..?”  They shook their heads.  Austin gave a low whistle, rubbing the back of his neck.  “Damn,” he muttered.  “Where did you guys come from?  The Camp?”

“Branberry,” Nathan said cautiously.  The camp?  What camp?  He didn’t trust this guy.  This was all too convenient.  And lately, convenience had been nearly getting them killed.  

Austin nodded.  “That clears a few things up.  We’ve had a couple of those kids rolling in through the years.  But I don’t know why she wouldn’t just make you two go to the Camp first...that’s way closer to Ohio than we are.  Well, I imagine you two are hungry?”

Ember practically clung to him then, letting her eyes widen pleadingly.  Seether would be impressed.  “Yes.  We are  _ very _ hungry.”

“All right then,” he said, detaching the girl and shooed her away to put some space between them.  “Follow me, then.”

“Hold up.”  Ember and Austin turned to Nathan who shoved his hands into his pockets.  “The last time we got help from someone, we ended up getting kidnapped.  Prove to us that you’re not a...not a-”

“A monster?” Austin suggested and Nathan nodded.  Austin hesitated.  “Well, I’m flesh and blood.”  Before Nathan could say anything, Austin sliced it down his forehead, a small little gash and blood slipped down his skin. “And I look human, don’t I?”

“So far.  But then again, so did ‘Nixon’ and he turned out to be a shadow.”

Austin rolled his shoulders.  “Yeah, well I don’t know how I can prove to you that I’m human, other than bringing you to the base so you can meet others.”

Others.  He must have meant other demigods.  He glanced over to Ember, and she met his gaze.  If they go with him, they might be heading into a trap.  “Mrs. Wilson told us to come here,” Ember whispered to him.  “I don’t think she would have sent us here if it was dangerous.  He might be telling us the truth.”

Nathan raised his gaze to look Austin in the eye.  He tried to search him for some kind of lie.  For his body to start shifting like Nixon’s did.  Tried to feel any kind of malevolence that radiated off him.  But there was nothing.  If anything, Austin just became uncomfortable underneath Nathan’s scrutinizing gaze and he shuffled.  “All right,” Nathan decided.  “Take us.”  

They made a beeline straight towards the wicked looking building.  It now looked more like a triangular tube, with blades leaning up against one another like a tent.  It was an incredible work of architecture.  

The further they walked into the base, the more Nathan could feel eyes trained on him.  A group of teens jogging slowed down as they passed, several looking at them curiously, other watching them with a knowing eye.  “How many of them are...demigods?” Nathan asked in a mutter as they went past and Austin gave a shrug.  

“There’s probably about thirty of us here.”

“Why here though?”

“We’re protected here.”

“Protected from what?”

Austin ignored his question.  He pointed to the building they were approaching.  “We’re going to go into the Chapel.”

“That’s a Chapel?  I thought it was the main building or something.”

“Mah.  This is the Cadet Chapel.  A lot of people go there to pray.”  He gave a laugh.  “They’ve been praying to all the wrong Gods.  Come on.”  They reached the doors and Austin paused, turning to study them.  “Tuck in your shirts.  Aeolus likes everything to be...neat.  I think he has OCD or something.  But you definitely don’t want to piss him off.”

“Aeolus?” Ember asked.  

Austin didn’t answer her.  He pushed open the wide doors to the Chapel and they stepped inside, the doors slamming shut behind them.  Nathan had the odd feeling they’d just stepped into a cage.  

A stunning cage  The walls tilted inwards, like they were inside a massive triangle and they were tinted purple from the stain glass windows.  And the chamber was huge.  It looked like it could seat more than a thousand people.  In the back, in front of a massive window, was an altar, and a man.  

He was dressed in uniform, his head bowed and a mane of white hair fell in front of his face.  And his hair billowed, twisting around him like he stood in the center of his own tornado.  He grasped the altar and whispered, rambling under his breath.  Flanking him were two men.  One was a burly man, with an unruly white beard intertwined with rods of ice, snowy skin and pale blue eyes.  The other was a red haired man, poking at a tablet and spoke under his breath to himself.  

“My Lords,” Austin announced.  The three looked up, the center man narrowing his eyes, removing his hands from the altar.  

“I’m shepherding the winds, Austin.  You know better than to interrupt.  What is it you need?”  Then his eyes locked on Nathan and Ember, and understanding washed over his features.   “Demigods?” 

“Yeah.”  Austin turned to Nathan and Ember.  “You never did introduce yourselves.”  He gestured up to the adults, whom were watching them expectantly.  “Tell them your names.”

The pair glanced at one another, silently deciding who would go first.  Nathan finally breathed and took a step forward.  “I’m Nathan.  And this is my friend, Ember.”

“They came from Branberry,” Austin said, going to stand beside the man who spoke, looking over his shoulder towards Nathan and Ember.  

The wind man nodded, as if the news was no surprise.  “Camp Half-Blood is closer to them than the Academy.  Why would Wilson bring them here instead?”  When Austin shrugged, the man frowned.  “There must be danger at that Camp, then.  Well, I suppose it’s only proper that I introduce myself.  My name is Aeolus.”  He gestured to the pale man beside him.  “This is Boreas.  And this, is Zephyrus.”  The ginger looked up from his tablet, giving a wave.  

“You’re Gods,” Ember whispered in a gasp.  “Aeolus.  The King of the Wind Gods.  Boreas, the God of winter, and Zephyrus....God of the West Wind.”  Zephyrus nodded  “What are you all doing here?” hesitated.  “How are you  _ real?” _

“Ember, you can’t just ask people why they’re  _ real,”  _ Nathan hissed in a hurry, glancing up at the three.  They were watching with amusement, and Zephyrus’ gave a soft chuckle.  

“She doesn’t know?” 

Boreas rolled his eyes.  “Too many don’t.”  As he spoke, white mist curled from between his pale lips.  “And too many die from their ignorance.  As for what we are doing here, young one, we are assisting Aeolus.  Normally, we would be in our own Kingdoms, but he called for our aid.”

“Which is no longer required.”  Aeolus turned to face the men.  “You will come to me if you see anything?”  The two nodded.  “Good.  Go forth, my sons.”  

Zephyrus nodded, and after meeting Nathan’s eyes, gave a smirk and dissolved into wind, vanishing.  

Boreas, however, lingered for a moment,  Aeolus turned to him with concern.  “What is it, Boreas?”

Boreas watched the two demigods before him. “If you two go to Camp Half-Blood,” he said, approaching them.  Every step he took sent a chill over Nathan’s skin.  “I need you to do something for me.”  The God pulled a necklace from his throat, a silver chain with a pendant made of ice.  “Give this to my son, Elijah Crawley.  And remind him that he is in my thoughts.”  

“Of course,” Ember responded, taking the pendant from the God and fastened it around her throat.  

Boreas looked up to Aeolus who nodded.  Nathan shivered as a frigid wind billowed by, sweeping up Boreas who melted into a mist of snow, carried away by the blistering breeze.  

Aeolus kept his eyes closed, focusing.  The small gusts of wind continued to circle his form.  Austin, Ember and Nathan remained silent, but Nathan’s mind was reeling.  Gods.  Aeolus, Boreas, Zephyrus, the myths from those dusty old books at the orphanage were coming true.  And apparently, he is a part of it.  

The winds died down, and Aeolus opened his eyes, watching the two.

“Do you know what you are?”

Nathan hesitated.  When asked that question before, he always replied no.  Who he was, where he came from, it was always unanswered.  But now...now he had an idea.  He and Ember both nodded solemnly.  “Demigods,” Nathan responded, like he was testing the word on his tongue.  

“And do you know who your parents are?”

“I’m a daughter of Hecate,” Ember responded.  “Supposedly.”

“Truly?” Interest sparked in the God’s eyes.  “I thought they were all gone...show me what you know.  Do you know any magic, Daughter of Hecate?”

Ember met Nathan’s eyes.  Nathan nodded encouragingly and Ember took a shaky breath, stepping forward.  She closed her eyes, extending her palm and green flame sprang to life in her hand, crawling up her fingertips, lighting up the GOd’s face ghoulishly as he admired the fire.  

“Remarkable,” he whispered.  “The jacks-of-all-trades, her spawn are.  The children of Hecate never cease to amaze.”  He waved his hand, and a breeze extinguished her flames.  “And you, boy?”

“Hades.  Son of Hades.”

Aeolus looked troubled.  “Hades, you say,” Aeolus murmured.  “And can you use any of your abilities?”  Nathan shook his head.  “No matter.  Might be for the best.”  Aeolus turned to Austin.  “They can’t stay here.”

“I know, father.”  

“There is clearly something at work in Camp Half-Blood...but there simply isn’t enough room here.  And a son of Hades, we don’t need that kind of attention drawn to us.  These two must be taken to the Camp.”  He brought his eyes back to Nathan and Ember.  “You have brought danger to our home, young ones.  You are being hunted.”

“By what?” Nathan asked.  His fingers curled into a fist.  

Austin answered for his father, giving a shrug.  “Who knows.  Monsters.  Beasts.  All demigods are hunted, but it’s particularly dangerous for children of Hecate and the Big Three right now.  There’s only one place on earth that you’ll be safe, and that’s Camp Half-Blood.”  He grinned, jerking a thumb at his chest.  “And I can get you there.” 

“How?” Nathan asked suspiciously, but he had a sick feeling he knew.  

Austin gave a smile.  “Well, I hope you aren’t afraid of heights.”

“No.”  A complete lie.  Nathan was terrified of heights.  

“Well good, then you won’t have anything to worry about.  Especially with me flying.”  He looked to Aeolus.  “Keep the winds calm for me, father?”  Aeolus gave a nod.  

“I have a question, though,” Ember ventured.  “You’re the King of the Wind Gods.  Why are you here at the Air Force Academy?”

“The Air Force Academy used to be a sanctuary for Demigods, just as Camp Half-Blood is,” Aeolus responded.  “It was guarded by my aerial spirits, and my winds.  They kept the monsters at bay.  But...” he hesitated.  “There is something wrong.  THe winds escape even my grasp.  They’re slippery.”  He turned, gazing out the window, eyes furrowed.  “Everything is changing.”

“Which is why we need to get you guys to the camp.”  Austin rested a hand on Ember’s shoulder and Nathan resisted the urge to bristle at him.  “I’ll get you guys there safe and sound, don’t worry.” 

“When do we leave?” Nathan asked and Austin shot him a grin.

“Now.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and criticism are appreciated!


	6. Crash Landing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I missed my deadline oops.

Nathan gave the plane a long, hard stare.  Her name was Skysleet.  Her appropriate name was much longer and far more complicated.  A version 2 something or another.  Nathan didn’t keep up with planes.  In all honesty, they scared the shit out of him.  Maybe it was a Hades thing that kept his feet on the ground, but either way, he much preferred to stay on land rather than several thousand feet in the air in a floating metal bucket.  If they crashed, they’d be screwed, and how did planes even manage to get into the air in the first place?  They just screamed bad news.  

Ember, of course, did not seem to share his concerns.  The girl was practically bouncing with excitement, tagging after Austin like a puppy, peppering him with question after question.  How fast could it go?  How high would they get? Would she be able to jump out of a parachute?  

“Well, not a  _ parachute,” _ Austin said with a laugh, eliciting a frown from Nathan.  That sounded sketchy.  “Until it’s time for the drop off, I’ve been instructed to keep half bloods in the vehicle at all times.” The blonde shot her a wink and Nathan gave a gag as Ember laughed girlishly.  Yeah, she was  _ so  _ being made fun of her later for flirting.  Were they flirting?  Seemed like it.  Whatever.  He didn’t care.  

Standing in front of the plane, Austin turned around, hands on his hips as he studied them.  “I’m guessing you guys don’t have anything with you to bring on board?” he asked.  They stood on the walkway, and a chilly late summer breeze billowed through and ruffled their hair.  

“No,” Nathan replied.  “We didn’t bring anything.  We didn’t really have time.”

“Fast and hard, huh.  That’s how most attacks are.”  He shot them a sympathetic look.  “What even happened?  If you don’t mind me asking.”

“It was these huge dogs,” Ember said.  “They were massive, they were like rhinos with black fur and-”

“Red eyes?”

Ember hesitated, then gave a nod.  “Yeah.”

“Hellhounds. Common monsters.  Still really dangerous, of course.  Please, continue.”

“They came into the orphanage.  All the kids were screaming and running around, they chased us out, down the road.  We got into a truck that took us close to Colorado.  We were kidnapped, almost taken to a shadow’s Master, we escaped, got to the Air Force Academy, now we’re here.”

“You’re shit at explaining things,” Nathan muttered.  

“She gave me what I need to know.  You two have been through a lot.”  Austin hesitated.  “Did he mention who this ‘Master’ was?”

“No.  Nothing.”

“Huh.  Wonder why he needed you two, then.  Either way, you’re safe now.  Once you get to Camp Half-Blood, everything will be fine.”

Camp Half-Blood.  What even was this place?  He watched as Austin turned to watch his plane with a look of admiration.  Like it was a child prodigy that he himself raised and nurtured into perfection.  He must have sensed Nathan’s unease because he turned towards him with a look of pity.  “Listen, Nathan, you don’t have to worry.  I’m not going to let you get hurt flying with me.  I mean, I’ll be in my home turf.”

“You’re Aeolus’ son, right?” Nathan asked.  

Austin nodded.  “Yeah.” He grinned.  “King of the Skies.”

Ember’s brow raised.  “So that would make you pretty important, right?”

Austin blushed.  “Well, I mean, Aeolus is a minor god.  It doesn’t make me any more important than you guys.”

“But if your father is the King of the Skies, wouldn’t that make you the prince?”

Austin opened and closed his mouth, trying to find words for a moment.  He looked like he was trying to mimic a minnow.  Judging from the astonished look on his face, Nathan could guess that the thought hadn't crossed his mind.  And the fierce blush that rose up in his cheeks suggested that the idea embarrassed him.  Well, as least the guy was modest.    

“I don’t like to think of it like that,” Austin finally said in a rush.  “I mean, technically all of us are royalty because the Gods are all related.”  He glanced over at Nathan, reverting attention onto him instead with a grin slipping onto his lips.  “And what about you, Nathan?  Prince of Darkness, Lord of the Underworld, the Necromancer.  How does it feel?”

“Like a load of bullshit,” Nathan responded with a smirk.  It wasn’t necessarily true.  It would be ignorant to brush everything that they’ve been through as being fake.  But still...the Prince of Darkness?  Being a son of Hades, the Lord of the Dead?  It was unreal.  Should he be proud of it?  In Hercules it was pretty clear Hades was the bad guy, being his kid doesn’t really make him a better person.  Just put a lot of expectations onto his shoulders.  

With the weight of insecurity beginning to drag him down, Nathan gave an irritated breath and jerked his thumb towards the plane.  “Are we going to get on the stupid plane or what?”

Austin looked offended.  He backed away and patted Skysleet.  “Yeah, I was just making sure you two were ready.  Seeing as you are, let’s get going.”  He turned and climbed the short steps up into the plane.

Nathan exhaled, moving to follow him into the metal death trap when Ember caught his shoulder and spun her around.  She looked furious.  “What?” he snapped.  He just wanted to step on the plane and get this over with.  

“Why are you such an ass all the time?” Ember hissed, keeping her voice low.

“What are you talking about?” 

Ember rolled her eyes.  “You know what I mean.  You’re being a jerk to Austin.  He’s taking us somewhere safe, Nathan, don’t you get that?  We won’t have to run anymore!  We’ll be able to relax.”

“Are you an idiot?” Nathan asked, keeping his voice low.  He looked over his shoulder to make sure Austin wasn’t lingering.  He could see the guy in the cockpit, fiddling with controls and speaking into a headset.  He turned back to Ember.  “We don’t know where he’s taking us.  We don’t know what’s going to happen.  For all we know, this is a trap.  We tend to fall into those.”

Ember was already shaking her head.  “Mrs. Wilson wouldn’t send us to our deaths, Nathan.”  Her gaze softened and she rested a hand on Nathan’s shoulder.  “She knew this is where we were going to go.”

Nathan hesitated.  Every instinct in his body was screaming at him to not get in that plane.  To stay firmly on the ground.  Air, sea, it was foreign territory to Nathan and he despised it.  But he took a breath, watching her.  “You really trust this guy?”

Ember nodded.  “Yes.  I know you don’t.  So will you at least trust me?”

Her jade eyes were pleading with him.  He was never able to resist those puppy eyes and he gave a long sigh.  “If you get me killed...I’m going to be pissed.”  

Ember grinned.  “You’ll be dead, you can’t be pissed.”

Well, apparently that wasn’t the case considering there was an Underworld and all, but he kept his tongue in check as he followed Ember up into the plane.  

It was one of those smaller kinds, a private jet, maybe.  There were eight chairs, four on each side of the plane, each pair flanking a table that was covered with a white cloth, silverware and plates littering their surfaces.  It was pretty fancy, he had to admit.  A door separated their room from the cockpit.  

Ember took the nearest one, jumping into the big, leather seat and exclaimed.  “It reclines!” She pushed her chair backwards until she was nearly laying down and Nathan rolled his eyes, sitting opposite her.  

“Put on your belt,” he instructed.

“We’re not going to crash.”

“Yeah, but what if we do.  Then you’re screwed.”

“But we won’t.  Besides, you don’t have yours on.”

“I’ll put it on in a second.  Can you please just put on the damn buckle.”

Ember rolled her eyes, reaching for the buckle.  Nathaniel did likewise, twisting around to grab it when he felt a small tug on his shirt from the aisle.  Rolling his eyes, he looked over expecting to see Austin.  

But it wasn’t Austin.  It was a monster.

His top half looked like any other young flight attendant.  He wore a red jacket, his blonde hair cropped and combed back, and in his hands he held two little bags of pretzels.  But it was his lower half that was the problem.  Goat legs.  His entire lower body was shaggy with hair, complete with a tail, hooves where his feet should be.  And let’s not forget the horns that curled up form the top of his head.  

Nathan’s fist was instantly out.  He slugged the guy in the face and the monster yowled in pain, stumbling backwards, the pretzels falling from his hands.  He cowered against a seat on the other side of the aisle, grasping at his nose that was gushing blood. 

“Ember, get up!” Nathan shouted, leaping up in his seat.  The monster on the floor was moving to stand up.  He must have been working for the Master, they needed Ember.  He was going to go after her!

Nathan leaped on top of the monster and its head smacked against the floor.  Nathan expected a more intimidating reaction, maybe claws growing from his hands or fangs replacing his teeth.  Instead the creature whimpered and hid his face, protecting himself from another attack.  “What are you doing here, who are you!” Nathan demanded with a shout.  He raised his fist above its head and turned to look at Ember.  “Go!”

“ _ Get off him!” _

Rough hands grabbed Nathan’s collar and yanked him off the monster.  Austin was suddenly there, down by the creature’s side, his expression highly concerned.  “Fern, are you okay?” Austin asked, grabbing the beast’s arm and pulled it to its feet.  

Fern was using the sleeve of his shirt to catch the blood that free fell from his nose.  He glanced at Nathan warily and turned to Austin.  “Yeah,” he said, his voice nasally. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Austin turned to Nathan, his eyes flashing with anger.  “What the  _ hell  _ are you doing?!”

“What the hell are  _ you  _ doing?” Nathan growled, moving to stand protectively in front of Ember.  “It’s a freaking monster, isn’t it?!”

Austin took a deep breath.  “ _ Most  _ monsters are evil, Nathan,” he explained, making a visible effort to keep his cool.  “But not satyrs.  You know, part human, part goat?  Fern is a satyr.”  He gestured to Fern who gave a weak wave.   “He’s on our side.  Now  _ apologize.”   _

“It’s all right, Austin,” Fern muttered, straightening himself.  He reached into his pocket, pulling a napkin and held it to his nose.  Fern stepped forward, extending a bloody hand out to Nathan.  His expression was polite, but Nathan didn’t miss the hardness in his green eyes.  It was a challenge.  “I’m sorry for frightening you.  I’m Fern.  It’s a pleasure.”  His voice was laced with sarcasm. 

Nathan glared at the hand like it might explode, then shook it hesitantly, his insides squirming as his hand slid across the satyr’s blood.  “Nathan.”

“Son of Hades,” Fern noted, swiping the napkin across his bloody hand.  

“How can you tell?”

“It’s an odor they carry.  You all smell like death.  Hard to miss.”  When Fern turned away, Nathan scowled and turned slightly so that he could smell his wrist.  Odor?  He didn’t smell too bad.  Dirt, grime and sweat but what else did he expect from a guy that’s been on the run.  

Ember caught the movement and she grinned coyly, leaning over.  “You do need a bath, Bones,” she whispered in his ear.  

“All right,” Austin said, slapping his hands together.  “Get back to your seat, Nathan.  I’ll start her up.”

“Why do they always refer to vehicles as females,” Nathan muttered as Austin disappeared into the cockpit, settling down to snap the seatbelt around his waist.  

He didn’t expect an answer.  Fern, who was crouching to grab the pretzels, came back up and placed the baggies in front of the half-bloods.  “Because normally,” he began, opening Embers for her.  “A long time ago, sailors would name their ships after their women, as a reminder.  Something that’s just passed through the centuries.”  He brought his grassy eyes up to Nathan, studying him.  “Names aren’t the only things that they have passed along, it seems.  Food will be served in an hour.”  He opened Nathan’s pretzels and followed Austin into the cockpit.  

“I don’t trust him.”

“You don’t trust anyone.”

The plane began to groan and grumble.  A vibration ran up along the floor and walls.  Nathan’s hand flew out to grasp the table.  “What’s going on?” he asked, a panicked edge to his voice.  The vibration seemed to intensify, and Austin’s voice came over the speaker.  

“ _ All right, you kooks.  Strap yourselves in unless you want to snap your neck on the roof.  The United States Air Force Academy will not be responsible for any and all injuries and/or deaths.”   _

“He’s kidding, right?”

Ember gave a small shrug.  “There are over a hundred plane crashes a year.”

Nathan couldn’t tell if she was kidding or not.  But that little fact didn’t help to calm the rising queasiness in his stomach.  

The plane began to move and Nathan’s breath escalated as it picked up speed, curling his fingers around the edge of the table.   

It began to rocket forward across the landingstrip.  Nathan could feel pressure starting to build in the back of his throat.  

The nose began to tilt upwards, the wheels being pulled into the plane as they went airborn.  Nathan turned to the aisle and hurled all over the red carpet.  

“Nathan!” Ember said, leaning forward and grabbed his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Nathan gagged, wiping the edge of his lip.  Fern hurried out of the cockpit, a bucket and mop in hand.   “Sorry, Fern, let me clean-”

“No, no Nathan it’s fine.  It’s all right, a lot of half-bloods feel ill at ease in the air, it’s okay.”  Smothering Nathan’s attempts to help, Fern hurried to clean up Nathan’s filth.  Blushing furiously, Nathan settled against the window, trying to calm his stomach.  Now that they were in the air, his nausea wasn’t nearly as bad.  He managed to spare a look outside.  

The ground was getting further and further away, the Academy shrinking until it was just a dot.  The landscape looked like patches of a quilt, green, gold, silver and brown that made up the trees, cities and mountains.  Mountains.  They were higher than the mountains.  

Nathan’s gut twisted and he sank back into his seat.  He decided to focus on maintaining a steady breath, which had accelerated drastically as they gained altitude.  

“You want some gum?”  He looked over at Ember, already chewing.  He could smell the mint from where he sat.  “It’ll make sure your ears don’t pop, and it’ll settle your tummy.”

“Where did you get gum?” He gratefully took a piece.  

“Someplace,” Ember responded mysteriously.  “Now chew.”

Nathan did so.  The ringing and pressure that began moments after they began to ascend had pressed on his ears until he felt like he was underwater.  Then there was a pop, and they returned back to normal.  Nathan groaned, flexing his jaw.  “Thanks,” he muttered.  He turned away from the window for fear of throwing up again.  Fern had returned back to the cockpit, the mess finally cleaned.  “Did he tell you when we are going to be landing?” he asked.  

“No, but it’ll probably be about...five hours give or take, considering our pilot is a son of Aeolus.  So we should probably get some shut eye.”  She gave a yawn and nestled into her seat, putting out her legs on the seat opposite her, leaning her head against the window.  

Nathan couldn’t see how she could just go to sleep like that.  His insides felt like they came alive.  They squirmed and writhed in his gut.  He took a shuddering breath and stood, walking towards the cockpit.  Maybe he could get some water.  That would probably help to quell the queasiness

He stopped at the door that Fern and Austin had disappeared through.  And he could hear voices.  He was by no means an eavesdropper. And he was about to turn when one muffled word rang out against the others.  

“ _ Ember.”   _

Nathan froze.  He narrowed his eyes, pressing his back against the door and, very quietly, opened it just a tad, listening in.  

“-take to them?” Fern was asking.  “I mean, they’re new.  They have no idea what they’re doing.”

“I have a feeling they’ll attach to Ember pretty quick,” Austin replied.  “Nathan though...I don’t know about that guy.  There’s something about that guy that just puts me off, you know what I mean?  Bad blood.”  Nathan grated his teeth.  “A Son of Hades...the last one took off after Jackson was killed.  And they tend to be unpredictable.  Nathan’s going to have a hard time making friends.  You think he’ll stick around?”  

“How about you ask him yourself.  He’s standing at the door.”

Nathan cringed.  Fern knew he was there...some satyr power, probably.  He exhaled, pushing the door open and entered the room.  Austin was sitting in one of the seats in front of a massive control panel, and he straightened as Nathan walked in.  “Nathan,” he said.  “What’s up?  You need anything?”  He was completely choosing to ignore the fact that he just insulted Nathan. 

“Who the hell is Jackson.”

Fern and Austin glanced at one another.  Fern decided to do the talking, and he stepped forward.  “Nobody.  What did you want?”

“Who’s the other son of Hades?”

“It’s nothing, Nathan,” Austin said, keeping his answer dismissive.  “What did you come to us to talk about.”

It was clear they weren’t going to answer any of his questions.  Fine.  He would just have to investigate when they arrived at this...camp.  No need wasting anymore time here than he needed to.  “Water,” he muttered.

Fern nodded and turned to a cart.  Most would be loaded with snacks and water bottles.  But as Fern moved around a couple objects, Nathan spotted crossbow bolts, knives, fruit snacks, a couple potted plants and, eventually, a water bottle.  

“Thanks,” Nathan took it from him.  “So.  Five hours?  Ember says that’s how long it will take to get there.”

“More like four,” Austin said, pressing a button on the panel.  “It’ll take a while anyways.  Go back to your seat.  We’ll get you some food and then you two should probably get some sleep.”

“Ember’s already asleep.”

“Well, more for you then.”

Nathan walked back passenger room.  Ember was awake, and watching the overhead TV, where the news was playing.  The normal stuff, robberies, advertisements for kids with cancer, ect.  A second look though told Nathan that she wasn’t really watching.  Her green eyes were glazed as she watched the screen, drumming her fingers on the table, not seeming to notice Nathan as he sat down across from her.  “What’s wrong?” Nathan questioned, jolting Ember out of her thoughts.  

“Oh.  Just this camp.”

“Tsch.” Nathan leaned back.  “I don’t get why we don’t have to go to a camp in the first place.  We were fine with Mrs. Branberry, until those hounds found us.  We could have stayed there.”

“Do you think we’ll ever be able to go back?”

“I’m not sure.”  

Ember’s gaze was distant, turning her eyes out the window, at the fluffy strings of clouds that dissipated as the plane cut through them and she heaved a sigh, bringing her knees up to plant her feet on the seat.   “Let’s sleep.”

Nathan couldn’t argue with that.  Despite how sick the plane made him feel, he was exhausted.  Besides, if he passed out he could skip this hellish ride.  Settling down into his seat he took a breath, leaning against the cold, rattling window.  He didn’t close his eyes.  He kept them on Ember.  Her face was tight and pale with worry.  “Everything is going to be okay.”  The words left his mouth without his permission.  He wasn’t even sure if he believed them.  But Ember gave him an appreciative look, closing her eyes.  

Nathan followed suit, and in only a few minutes he was passed out.  

 

He should have remembered to keep his seat belt on.  

Nathan’s head smacked against the window with a crack as the plane jerked to the right, doing a complete barrel roll.  What the hell was going on?!  He was tumbling through the air inside the plane, his body and neck landing hard against the wall before smacking down on the aisle, gasping in pain.  

“Nathan!” Ember shouted, frantically trying to unbuckle herself. 

Austin burst into the aisle, pointing at Ember.  “Stay where you are!” he commanded.  “Nathan, get back into your seat!”  He raced to one of the windows, looking outside and Nathan swiftly did as the man said, launching back down into his seat and buckled himself in.  

“What’s going on?” Nathan demanded and Austin turned to him, his expression grim.

“We’re being attacked.”

“Attacked?  By what?!” Nathan looked outside, trying to see a jet or a plane shooting by, but he saw nothing.  

“Oneiroi,” Austin said before racing back into the cockpit.  Ember and Nathan shared a look. Oneiroi?

A look of horror washed over Ember’s face and she screamed, pointing at the window behind Nathan’s head.  Nathan swiveled around just in time to see it.  A bat like creature clawed at his window, the same that he saw in his dreams.  Its face was inches away from his own, separated only by a sheet of glass that was starting to crack under the weight of the creature trying to burst in.  

It was just about to break through when a gust of wind shoved the creature away, sending it tumbling through a cluster of clouds.  Fern came racing into the room with bags, a backpack on his back.  “Did Austin do that?” Ember asked and Fern nodded hurriedly, throwing a bag at her then at Nathan.

“Yes, he’s holding them back.  Now put these on!”

Nathan examined the contents of the bags and suddenly his gut hit rock bottom.  “Are these parachutes?”  Oh, Gods, they were going to jump out of a plane.  They were going to jump out of a plane.  “We’re going to jump out of a plane?” The words that repeated in his mind tumbled out of his mouth.  

“Yes, and they’re wingsuits,” Fern corrected.  “What are you waiting for, put them on!”  He ripped the backpack off from his back and reached inside, grabbing his own wingsuit and quickly began to don it, pulling it over his hooves and hairy legs.

Nathan followed suit, trying to keep his stomach where it belongs.  Stepping into the wingsuit, the plane gave a sharp jerk to the left and he smacked against the wall with a groan.  He grated his teeth, trying to get the infernal thing on. There thin layer of latex that spread from his hands to his boots.  It looked a lot a flying squirrel.  

Austin charged into the room.  He was wearing his own wingsuit, and he marched over to the window.  “They’re attacking the engines, trying to destroy the plane.  We need to bolt before it blows.”  Nathan nodded, swallowing the rising panic in his chest.  All right, so they weren’t going to die in a fiery explosion a thousand feet in the air.  Great.  

“We’re about to fly right over your camp,” Austin explained.  “When I say now, you guys jump!”  He moved open to the door, and his muscles writhed under his skin as he forced the door open, straining.  Air immediately began to whip outside of the plane, being sucked out creating a strong breeze and Ember wrapped her arms around her body.  

Austin was leaning out the door, watching the ground with narrowed eyes, Fern approaching from the side.  A thought crossed Nathan’s mind.  “Who the hell is flying the plane?”

“Considering she’s about to blow, I think we should just focus on making it out of here alive,” Austin said, pulling back.  He grabbed Ember’s arm, pulling her over to the door.  “I’ll tell you when to go!” he shouted into her ear, his voice ripped away in the wind.  They waited, each second dragging on and on before Austin said, “Now!”

Ember didn’t hesitate.  She leaped out, screamed, and her body and voice were whipped away, disappearing from sight.

“Fern, go!”  Fern raced towards the door, leaping out like a pro, spreading his arms and legs, leaving Nathan with Austin.  

Nathan heard Austin.  Heard him tell him to go.  But he couldn’t move.  Austin’s voice was like putty between his ears, his legs completely frozen.  The only thing that he could hear properly was his heart that was pounding like a drum in his chest.  “Nathan, you have to go!”   _ I can’t, _ Nathan wanted to say, but he couldn’t.  His voice was caught in his throat.  

“Damn it,” he heard Austin snarl.  “Sorry about this, man.”

Sorry about what?  Suddenly regaining control in a burst of panic, he spun around to say, ‘wait!’ when he felt a rough shove on his back.  He was now tumbling through the air, free falling.  

He could hear nothing except the wind that whistled past his head and he screamed, his arms and legs flapping like a featherless bird trying to fly.  He looked down.  That was a mistake.  He was hurdling through clouds and far down below, he could see the ground.  

“Nathan!”  He heard the voice from above and looking up, tears in his eyes from the gusts of wind, he spotted Austin right above him.  “Straighten your body, now!  Spread out!”

Nathan didn’t want to listen.  Instinct told him to flap his arms.  Did that mean he had bird genes?  He probably looked like a damn chicken.  But slowly he nodded, unfurling his arms and legs into an X.  The wind caught the wings and his body jerked, the fall slowing down.  And he began to glide.  

His heart was still bursting in his chest, his breath hard as he swallowed.  He was still moving fast, slicing and gliding through the sky as fast as a truck, but at least he wasn’t free falling.  He almost felt more at ease, tilting a little bit to put some space between himself and Austin who had come up on his side.  

“Nathan, watch out!”

He didn’t see the oneiroi until it latched onto him.  He shouted in pain as he felt claws pierce into his body, hooking them into his flesh and he heard the shredding of fabric.  He looked over.  His wing, it had a huge hole.  

They began to gain speed, hurtling down towards the ground, spiraling like a drill.  He could see Austin above him, bringing his arms and legs together so he could shoot towards them like a dart.  Nathan looked back towards the ground.  It was coming up on them fast.  He could see an assortment of buildings coming closer and closer, all in a large circle and in the center, a fire?

The creature screeched in his ear and Nathan yelled as the claws rended his flesh.  He could feel blood seeping through his shirt, soaking his front.  Austin was suddenly at his side, a long, bronze sword in his hand.  The sword arched upwards, glinting in the sunlight and tore across the creature’s backside.

Black blood splattered across Nathan’s face, and the creature exploded into dust.  Nathan couldn’t think.  The rush of freefalling and the blood that was collecting on his chest, he could barely hear Austin.  “Nathan, straighten out!”  The voice was distant, like it was echoing down a tunnel.  “Spread out, now!”  Nathan could feel the air thicken underneath him, Austin trying to slow their fall as they streaked from the sky towards the ground.  “ _ Nathan!”   _

Nathan opened his eyes, just in time to see a girl who’d been standing on the ground with coppery red hair give a scream as he barreled into her, everything going dark on impact.  


	7. Demigods Incoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From now on I will be posting a new chapter every single sunday, without fail. I have the entire book written out and finished, so now it's just a matter of getting the chapters out in a balanced manner.

The auburn haired girl drew the feathered arrow back to her ear, her light grey eyes narrowing in on the stag.  It wasn’t like any ordinary stag.  This stag had three pairs of antlers, each pair larger than the last, the back grow at least five feet high and the stag itself towered at least ten feet off the ground.  Green leaves surrounded the girl’s body, which was dirty and gritty from her day of hunting.  Her body was completely immobile, the her thumb pressed against her cheekbone, the arrow resting in the notch on top of her three fingers.  

He raised her head, slowly as the wind shifted and she swore, looking back to the stag.  The wind has shifted direction.  It would be able to smell her.  And sure enough, the deer which stood in the center of a clearing, its head lowered to eat some grass, slowly raised its head, sniffing the wind and it began to paw at the ground nervously.

The girl’s fingers twitched and the arrow blazed from her bow.  It was like she could watch the weapon in midair.  How it began to spin, the shaft bending back and forth as it sped towards the creature.  And it hit spot on.  The arrow embedded itself deep into the creature’s ribs and the deer bleated in pain, going to turn around and run when another arrow struck it in the throat.  It was then that the creature began to dissolve, going to its knees and it lowered its head in defeat, melting away into a golden dust, only to be blown away in the wind.

Catherine slowly stood up, her heart pounding.  That was the best part of the hunt.  The moment after you take that shot after tracking something for hours, days.  Watching it fall...she uttered a soft prayer to Artemis.  She might not be a hunter, but she felt a great respect for the Goddess of the Moon and always felt the need to thank her after a successful hunt.  

She approached the arrow that sat in the grass tenderly, kneeling beneath it and rubbed her thumb along the bronze tip, her eyes watching the silver shaft sadly.  She loved this.  It wasn’t just the hunt that excited the girl.  Being in nature, surrounded by the forests and trees, the creatures, the birds.  She might not be a daughter of nature, like Kira or Dahvia but she still appreciated it, maybe even more than the two since it wasn’t just in her blood, but a passion that was born inside of her as she grew.  She would much rather be out here in the woods than in the camp.  But unfortunately, she would have to return eventually.  Chiron has sent the harpies out looking for her once, she knew he would do it again.  

She had just slid the arrow into the quiver when she heard the sound.  As a hunter, she immediately went into a tense, still mode, her body completely immobile, her hand only inches away from her bow.  She could draw the weapon and shoot an arrow in the blink of an eye.  

The stillness of the forest was what made her nervous.  Normally, even when monsters were nearby, she could hear the tweeting of birds, the rustle as a rabbit moved about in the undergrowth.  But this time, there was absolutely nothing.  

She didn’t even have time to draw her bow.  The creature attacked from behind, the only warning was the growl in her ear.  It pounced on her back and she shouted in pain as claws dug into her back and she was forced onto the ground, her chin splitting as it connected with a rock.  She jutted her elbow backwards, striking the creature in the head and it yowled, moving away from her and she quickly leaped to her feet, her hand going for an arrow in her quiver.

She had expected a hellhound.  The growl she heard was definitely that of a canine.  But that wasn’t what she saw here.  SHe saw an average wolf.  Low to the ground, a bit bigger than a lab with shaggy black fur.  She knew that it wasn’t just a younger hell hound, she knew what that would look like.  It was a wolf...but it was different.  The fur was darker than natural, and shadows seem to darken and twist when the creature came near it, and its red eyes were burning with a furious insanity, froth forming at its lips.  

It leaped at her while she was examining it and she cursed, having no other choice than to strike the creature with her bow as if it was a club.  She attacked it hard enough to knock away, but the impact split the bow in half, cracking it along the middle and she held the two jagged pieces in her hand.  

The wolf shook its head with a growl, trying to rid itself of its dizziness and it lunged at the girl again.  This time, she couldn’t defend herself.  It knocked her to the ground, and using one arm she was able to keep its snapping jaws away from her throat.  She couldn’t reach her knife, that was in her boot.  She twisted her neck to keep it further way from the wolf and swiveled her head around, looking for something, anything.  Her eyes landed on her broken bow and she extended her hand.  SHe couldn’t reach it.  Her hand was clawing at the grass, as if trying to drag the land closer to her and finally, she was able to grasp it.  The wolf didn’t stand a chance after that.  She thrust the broken brow deep into its stomach and it howled, falling onto its side and Catherine quickly whipped her bronze dagger from her boot, planting it into the creature’s throat. 

It jerked for a small time under her hand which was pressing its shoulder into the ground, trying to keep it still and finally, it fell silent, dark eyes gazing out lifelessly.

She waited for it to dissolve.  Hoping it would dissolve.  It never did.  Red blood seeped out of the neck wound, her broken bow still planted in its stomach and she sighed, standing up and she ripped the piece of wood out of its body.  It had just been a regular wolf...but why would it go nuts and attack her like that?  And the shadow...she hadn’t just been imagining that.  It had really been there...and the evil that seemed to radiate off of it had been so thick that it made her want to choke.  She had to find Chiron and inform him of this.

It didn’t take the girl long to get to the camp.  She knew the forest like the back of her hand.  Every crevice, every secret, every stream.  Leaping over a small river, she looked around for the marker and then spotted it, the deep mark in a tree’s bark.  She had dug her blade into that tree a couple years ago in order to find her way more easily.  She knew where to go from here.  

She was silent as she made her way through the trees, ducking underneath a log and she brushed away some bramble and she breathed, coming to the edge of the forest.  It was starting to get late, the sun was dipping beyond the horizon and it was growing darker.  Her eyes were drawn up to the sun and they narrowed darkly.  The sun...it has been peculiar lately.  Darker. The days were shorter.  And it was in the middle of summer...it was odd.  

Demigods were going about their daily business in the camp.  She could see a couple chilling out by the lake, their feet in the water.  She smiled, recognizing one of them.  Her friend, Rose Walters.  A daughter of Poseidon.  She was sitting alone on the duck, her feet dipped into the water and the dark skinned girl had her neck arched back, warming her face with the sun as her black hair tangled and curled its way down her back.  

She wanted to say hello.  But she knew that Chiron was of utter importance right now.  She spun around to race over to him, but she instead ran right into someone.  Her forehead knocked up against his chest which was like steel and she groaned, taking a step back.  Oh, no wonder.  He was wearing a bronze breastplate.  

Hands reached out to steady her and she looked up into the golden eyes of Mason Everlark.

“Hey there, Mousy,” he said with a smirk, hands on her shoulder.  “Where are you off to?”

It was good to see Mason.  Rose might be a good friend, but Mason was her best friend.  “Hey, Everlark,” she said with a smile.  At his name, a couple campers looked over with narrowed eyes, suspicion flashing across their faces.  Most demigods were claimed by the time they were sixteen.  Mason seemed to be the only exception.  He was seventeen, almost eighteen years old and he had yet to be claimed.  And so in the eyes of the demigods, there obviously had to be something wrong with him.  “I’m going to Chiron...it’s pretty important.”

“What happened to your bow?” Mason asked with a frown, and she looked down to the two halves of her bow that she held in each hand.

“That’s what I have to talk to him about.”

“I think Mikhail would be a better person to go to for that.  Chiron...I don’t think he would be able to fix something like that.”

Catherine punched his arm.  “It’s not about the bow, it’s about what broke the bow!  There was this...” she hesitated.  “This wolf.”

“A wolf.  You’re this freaked out by a wolf?”

“No.  It was different.  It had red eyes, and there was shadow surrounding it and-”

Mason rolled his eyes, sticking his hands into his pockets.  “That’s a hell hound, Catherine.  Maybe you should just-”

Catherine grabbed his arm and he trailed off at the desperate look in her grey eyes.  “Mason.  It wasn’t a hell hound.  It was a regular wolf but it was different, something changed it.  It’s like with the sun, it was dark and...and evil.”  She released his arm and began playing with the beaded necklace strung around her throat.  “I have to get to Chiron.”

Mason nodded.  Now she could see the alarm in his eye.  He could get serious when he wanted to.  “All right,” he said coolly.  “That does sound pretty serious.  The last I saw him, he was preparing for the Capture the Flag game tomorrow with Arthur.”

Catherine scowled at the mention of her brother.  Arthur.  Arthur Wellington.  He had probably the most inflated head in the entire camp, right next to that son of Zeus, Allan.  He thought he knew everything, he was bossy, commanding and applied his Head Counselor status wherever he went.  It made Catherine seethe at times.  

Mason seemed to notice her new mood because he chuckled.  “He won’t get in your way, especially if you have something important to say.  Come on, let’s find them.”  

They edged around the arena, that daughter of Ares, Samantha, with the long blonde hair and sleek body, was fighting off a couple of her siblings.  Samantha...Samantha and Bo, they were the ultimate kickasses of the camp.  They were completely different appearance wise.  Bo looked like your typical Ares girl.  Rugged and tough with ripped up, dirty clothes and a permanent sneer.  Samantha always wore a sneer, but her looks could have plopped her in the Aphrodite cabin, with long, curly blonde hair, a sleek body and naturally tanned skin.  

They came to where Mason knew Chiron was.  Right outside the Big House, on the porch.  Chiron was in his wheel chair, his dark brown hair cropped and well done and a bushy beard hanging underneath his chin.  Arthur was leaning against the rails, using a hand to draw in the air as he explained different tactics and Chiron had an approving smile on his face.  They both looked up as Catherine and Mason approached and Arthur grinned.  

“Hey, sissy,” he said and Catherine scowled.  To any other person, it would have sounded like some teasing sibling greeting.  But Catherine could hear the competitiveness in his voice.  

“Hello, bubby,” she said quietly, moving past him towards Chiron.  “I need to talk to you.”

“What is it?” Chiron asked with a frown, leaning forward.  He must have seen on her face that it was important, because he had her attention.  

“I fought something in the woods.  It was a wolf, but it was different.  It had black fur, red eyes and it was encased in shadow.”

Arthur rolled his shoulders in a shrug, still leaning against the railing as he turned his head to watch her.  “A hell hound,” he said simply, but Catherine shook her head.  

“That’s just it, it wasn’t a hell hound.”  She looked back up at Chiron.  “It was just a regular wolf.  But it had changed.  It was evil, Chiron.  I could see the insanity in its eyes.”

“It didn’t dissolve?”

“No, it’s body is probably still out there.”

“Do you know where?”

“About a mile north of Zeus’ Fist, next to the river.”

Chiron nodded and turned over to Arthur.  “Take some campers into the woods and find this body, Arthur.  Bring it back, if you can.”

Arthur frowned.  He obviously didn’t like being sent out on errands while Catherine was able to stay and chat about some pretty important things, but he couldn’t just say no and he nodded, moving away from the rail.  He shoved past Mason, sending the boy stumbling back a few paces with a look of bewilderment on his face and the son of Athena began to search for a team to take into the woods.

“I suppose that is what happened to your bow?” Chiron guessed, motioning to Catherine’s bow and she nodded.  

“Yeah.  It was tough, too.”

Chiron rolled towards the rails and gazed out over the horizon.  He looked older.  More stressed.  He heaved a sigh and looked at Catherine.  “Is that all?” when she nodded, he gestured towards the armory.  “You should have that fixed then.  You’ll be needing it for the game tomorrow.”  His eyes twinkled.  “You will be leading your team.”

“Not Arthur?” she asked with a frown.  He always conducted the team.  Chiron shook his head.

“Arthur is going to be with me.  Which means someone needs to lead.”

A smile slipped onto her face, a smile that she quickly replaced with a look of confidence.  “All right, sir.  Thank you.”  

When she turned around, the grin returned and she walked with a new skip in her step as they made their way towards the forge.  “I’ve been waiting forever for an opportunity like this,” she said with a laugh and Mason grinned.

“What, you mean an opportunity to drive Arthur into the dirt?”

“Absolutely.  My plan will be flawless.”

“Who are we facing?”

“Apollo, Hephaestus, Athena, Hermes, Demeter and Poseidon are on the red team,” she said, counting off the cabins on her thumb.  “Which means that Ares, Aphrodite, Zeus, Hades, Dionysus and the children of the minor gods are on the blue team.”

“Wouldn’t they be with us?” Mason asked with a frown.  “The minor gods, they’re in Hermes.”

Catherine shrugged.  “That’s the way Chiron wanted it.  Hermes is too big.  It’s only fair.”  The sounds of bellows and metal clanging on metal came to her ears and they walked into the armory.  It wasn’t like any other building, it was open and wide, with white, stone pillars holding up a stone roof.  It was lined with tables and gears and wheels and a mill beside it.  Like a greek temple styled by someone obsessed with steampunk.  

There was only one person in the forge at the time and Catherine smiled.  A good friend.  He was a big guy, 6’4 and two hundred pounds of pure muscle.  Today, he had decided to not wear shirt and his dark, tanned skin rippled from the flames of the bellows beside him, his muscles contracting as he brought his hammer down on the steel of a sword and it rang out with a cling.  His black hair was in a buzz and his dark eyes watched the blade with a frown.  It looked perfect to Catherine, but there was obviously something wrong with it, otherwise Mikhail wouldn’t look so distressed.

“Mikhail?” she said tenderly, walking into the armory and the young man lifted his head, a shy smile slipping onto his face.

“Hello, Catherine,” she said, a faint russian accent flavoring his voice and Catherine smiled.  She loved that accent.  “What do you need?”

“I need your help,” she stepped forward, extending her hands which held the pieces of her broken bow and Mikhail frowned, taking it from her gently.  That’s what she loved about him.  He was so huge, and could crack someone’s skull so easily but the way he handled things with such care, such delicacy, it was almost beautiful to watch.

He placed the broken bow on the table and examined it with a frown, sliding a thumb along the bow’s wood.  He picked up the smallest strand of hair and looked over at Catherine.  “A wolf?” she nodded and he frowned.  “What were you doing, playing baseball or something?” he muttered and Catherine smiled sheepishly.

“That’s pretty much it.”

“I can fix it...it will take a while though...probably about an hour.”

Catherine raised a brow.  That was a while?  She didn’t argue though and she nodded.  “All right...thanks, Mikhail.  And by the way, the sword looks really good.”

Mikhail glanced down at the blade which rested momentarily forgotten on the table and he shrugged as if it was nothing, but the look on his face told Catherine that he was pleased with her praise.  

Mason and Catherine made their way out of the armory and she now noticed that Mason wore a frown on his face.  She nudged him with her elbow, a smile playing at her lips.  “What’s up with you?”

Mason drew a hand up to tangle his fingers in his chestnut brown hair.  “So what are you and Mikhail...” he trailed off and shrugged.  

Catherine laughed.  “No, don’t worry.  He’s just a friend.  Like that big teddy bear you can’t help but love.”  She gave him a smile and Mason smiled back, but it was uncertain.  It was no secret that Mason loved Catherine.  And Catherine...well, she would never say it.  She would die before she said it, but she had feelings for the boy as well.  Maybe for the Fourth of July-

“Catherine, look out!” Mason’s voice snapped out from beside her.  She spun around to look at him and he had backed away, pointing up into the sky and she looked up just in time to see the black haired demigod before he slammed into her.  


	8. Splashdown

Jumping out of that plane thousands of feet in the air had been honestly one of the scariest damn things Ember had ever done in her entire life.  And that includes after being captured and being chased by hell hounds.  But it was also admittedly one of the most fun things.  She had always wanted to skydive.  You could consider Ember Carsons to be a dare devil.  Bungee jumping, white water rafting, sky diving, it was all on her bucket list.  Well, at least now she could tick something off.  

It was a little less fun when she was attacked by that creature, of course.  She saw it before it saw her, the shadow in the clouds coming straight at her.  Out of instinct, she twisted her body to the left, her arms spread out and she glided to the side, so when the thing lunged at her from the clouds, it missed her by a long shot.  It hissed and flew after her pumping its wings.  All right, so they were going to have a race, then.  She grinned, tucking in her arms and legs and she sped forward like a bullet being  shot out of a pistol towards the ground which was coming even faster.

Unfortunately, that creature had basically been bred for flying and it caught up with her quickly.  She could hear its screech from behind and she gritted her teeth.  There was no way she was going to be able to make it without this thing killing her.

She twisted around so that she was facing the creature and it faltered in surprise, sure that it was going to have an easy kill.  It definitely didn’t anticipate the green flame which shot from her palms.  The creature flapped its wings frantically, trying to move away but by that point the flames had already engulfed the creature. 

Ember turned back to the ground, which was becoming alarmingly closer.  She spread out her wings, hoping it would slow her down.  It did.  A little bit.  Not as much as she would have liked.  She was still shooting towards the ground at more than thirty miles an hour…she was going to die if she hit the ground. 

Something was coming closer and closer into sight.  Strange buildings in a circle around a large fire.  She wasn’t focused on that, though.  She was focusing on the lake.  It was pretty big, with a large dock going out about ten feet into the water and a couple people were kayaking.  From this distance, she could see them pointing curiously, wondering what was going on.  She had to hit that lake.

She angled her body a bit so that she was soon speeding towards the water, her legs tucked in and her arms out in front of her and she closed her eyes, sucking in a breath as the blue got closer.

There was a splash! as she hit the water, water spraying up towards the shore which was pretty close.  Fortunately, she was able to land in a spot that was deep enough so that she didn’t break her neck.  Still, the force of the dive caused water to rush into her lungs and she choked, her legs kicking as she turned her head around, trying to find the surface.  She saw light breathing through the water and she kicked her legs, swimming upwards and her head broke through the water and she gasped and coughed.

“What the hell?!”

She spun around underwater and despite everything that had happened, barked out a laugh.  A kid sat on the grass on the edge of the lake.  He was completely soaked, including the journal that he held in his hand.  He had to be a year younger than her, sixteen.  He had straight, yet messy black hair that came to the bottom of his ears, very pale skin and icy grey eyes that glittered with anger as he stood up, still gaping down at his cloths in shock.

“What…you…where did you come from?” he sputtered, watching her with a glare.  “And what are you laughing at?”

My, what a defensive child.  “Nothing,” she said with a grin.  Honestly, she was just laughing because A, he looked really funny wet and B, she was grateful to be alive.  “And a plane.” 

“I saw the whole thing,” this voice was feminine and she looked over to see a girl sitting on a dock.  She was pretty small.  Not as small as Ember, Ember was tiny, but she was thin, with dark skin and black hair that curled down to her waist.  She stood up and stepped into the water.  Ember thought she would immediately sink and get soaked, but instead, she just merely walked on the surface.  Ember’s jaw dropped as the girl approached and once she got close enough, waved her hand towards the shore.  

She felt something push on her back and Ember realized that it was a current that was speeding her towards the shore and once she got close enough, she stood up, her wingsuit completely soaked and her hair fell around her head dripping wet.  Nathan would have been calling her a wet dog right about now.

Shit.  Nathan.  “I came with a friend!” She said quickly, rushing out into the grass and looked up into the sky, shielding her eyes from the sun.  She couldn’t see him…wait, there he was.  And she wasn’t alone.  She gasped, putting a hand to her mouth.  He was being attacked.

“Is that your friend?” muttered the black haired kid, squinting as he watched Nathan barreling towards the ground.  He wasn’t stretching his arms.  He was going to hit the ground going more than forty miles an hour.

Fortunately for him, a girl happened to be standing there.  Ember, the dark haired girl and the kid cringed as Nathan rammed into her, knocking both of them to the ground.

“Nathan!” Ember shouted, running towards the two.  

A guy was standing there. He wore an orange shirt (all of them were wearing orange shirts) and he had tanned skin, wavy brown hair and golden eyes.  He knelt down besides the girl that Nathan had barreled into.  She was pretty, with auburn hair that was braided down to the small of her back, messy, straight and choppy, feathery little strings hanging in her forehead.  “Catherine!  Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” Catherine muttered, sitting on her butt and rubbing her forehead with her eyes closed.  “I think I might have gotten a concussion though.”

“Nathan,” Ember gasped, sprinting to her friend’s side and crouching beside him.  His entire shirt was black with blood, and he looked more pale than normal.  “Nathan!”  he didn’t respond, his breathing was ragged. 

“Let me see,” Catherine murmured, gently nudging Ember out of the way.  Ember was too scared to snap at her, so she scooted over in order to give Catherine some room.  Catherine lifted up Nathan’s shirt and Ember chewed on her lip nervously.  It was bad.  Three, long claw marks raced down his chest, deep as well, and blood was gushing from the gashes and trailing down his chest.

“He needs to get to the infirmary, now,” said the brown haired guy, tearing off his shirt.  Ember’s eyes bugged.  So, attractive and muscular.  Catherine seemed to have caught the look though, because she gave Ember a quick glare and moved out of the way so that Mason could make his way over, pressing the shirt against Nathan’s injuries.  Nathan must have been somewhat awake, because he moaned in pain, his head falling to the side.  “Mikhail!” Mason shouted, turning back towards the building behind him, which had the style of the Parthenon, only there were various pieces of machinery scattered around the area.

Another guy jogged up to them.  Damn, this camp must have been full of hotties.  This one was different than the others.  He was huge, more than six feet tall and was literally all muscle and bulk, with a stocky kind of body with buzzed black hair and soft brown eyes.  “What happened?” he asked anxiously.  He had an accent.  Russian?”

“These guys just came flying out of nowhere…literally,” Mason muttered, helping Catherine to her feet.  She looked like she was about to go unconscious from the impact.  “This guy, he’s pretty injured, I need your help to get him to the infirmary.”  He looked at Catherine, releasing her arm.  “You should get her to Chiron so she can tell us what’s happened.”

“I can do that.”  Austin.  He was walking towards them, looking completely nonchalant with his hands in his pockets. 

“Austin?” Catherine asked, narrowing her eyes.  “What are you doing here?” there was a cautious edge to her voice.

“These guys needed a ride,” Austin said with a shrug and he looked down at Nathan and shook his head. “I told him to straighten out.”

“Where’s Fern?” Ember asked with a frown, looking around.  She didn’t see the satyr anywhere.

Austin’s face darkened and he looked away.  “Gone,” he said simply.  Ember felt like she was punched in the gut.  The tone of his voice,   The look on his face…Fern was dead.  To the other demigods however, they didn’t seem as shocked or surprised.  It was more of a painful familiarity. 

“What the hell are you doing here, Crawely?” Mason asked the black haired kid with a growl, lifting Nathan up by his arms.  Mikhail had his legs. 

The kid behind him, the pale one scowled and raised his hands.  “Sorry,” he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets.  “I’ll go somewhere else then.”  He gave Ember a glare, as if blaming her for this and made his way towards a cabin that looked like any that you would find at a mortal camp, walking inside and he slammed the door. 

“Who’s that?” Ember asked Catherine as Mikhail and Mason began to walk away with Nathan.  Part of her wanted to go after him…she was nervous about leaving Nathan alone with these strangers, but at the same time, she trusted the two.  Crawley…something about that name was familiar.    

Catherine shook her head.  A sad story was coming up, Ember could tell.  “His name is Elijah Crawley.  He hasn’t been here long.  But in his first year, he murdered someone, an Ares camper.  He’s a pretty nasty person,” she wrinkled her nose as if she smelled something bad. 

“Elijah…Elijah,” Ember whispered under her breath.  Then she had it.  “Elijah!  Would he happen to be a son of Boreas?”

Catherine looked over at her with a frown.  “Yeah.  Why?  Have you met him before?”

“No, but I met his father.”

“His father?” Catherine frowned.  “Did he say what he wanted?”

“I have something to give him and a message from Boreas.”

Catherine waved a hand.  “You can tell him later, you’re going to be sleeping together.”

“Excuse me?” Catherine asked, a deep blush on her face.  Sleeping with Elijah?  What?  In the same cabin?

“I’ll explain later,” Catherine said and she looked over at Austin, her eyes narrowed.  “Since these two are going to be staying here for a while, I’m going to show her around.  You go tell Chiron what’s going on.”  She glanced over at Ember and gave her a small smile.  “Let’s go meet the family.”

 


	9. Extended Family

“So what’s your name?” Catherine asked, leading her away from the group.

“Ember.  How long have you been here?” Ember asked, following Catherine as the two made their way through the camp.  It was obviously a camp.  The orange shirts that everyone seemed to be wearing were their camp shirts, orange, with a black pegasus and above it, in almost scratch-block handwriting, it read ‘Camp Half-Blood.’  Some of the campers were doing activities that you would expect in any camp.  A couple of them, all blondes with blue eyes, were playing basketball, shouting at each other.  One of them, taller than the others, sped around one shorter kid and jumped up, dunking the ball into the hoop and was tackled by smiling campers.  And other activities were...a little less ordinary.  And that would include trying to scamper up a rockwall trying to avoid lava that was being poured down the side.  

Catherine shrugged, brushing a strand of auburn hair out of her eyes.  “A long time.  I ran away from my family when I was about six and I was found by a satyr and brought here.”

“A satyr,” Ember frowned.  “You mean the goat people.”

“Yeah.”

“Fern was a satyr,” Ember whispered, looking down.  She obviously had not known the satyr for very long, but knowing he was dead...and she felt partly responsible about his death.  He was killed trying to make sure that she and Nathan were able to make it to camp.  

“It’s not your fault,” Catherine said from her side, obviously reading her mind and Ember glanced over at her with a frown.  How did she know what she was thinking?  “A lot of people die here.”  She said it with a straight face, but Ember could see the pain in her eyes.  “It’s something that you just get used to around here.  These are the cabins,” they had reached the middle of the circle of weird buildings, and they were standing beside a burnt out bonfire.  “That one is Zeus,” she said, pointing to the first one, and Ember followed her finger.  It was definitely the biggest cabin.  It was white with large pillars, almost like a mausoleum.  “There aren’t many campers.  There’s Allan, Kathina, a few others.  Zeus doesn’t have many children.  And there’s Hera,” she pointed at a cabin that was similar to Zeus’, only it was obviously empty.  

“I’m guessing no one stays in the Hera cabin,”  Ember said, and Catherine shook her head.

“Nope.  Hera doesn’t have any children, she’s the goddess of marriage, so she doesn’t cheat on Zeus.  Zeus...well, he doesn’t have a  problem with it, obviously.”

They went around the cabins in a circle.  Ember tried to memorize which one was which.  The low to the ground one was Poseidon.  The white one with ivy crawling up the side, Demeter.  The brown one with apparent landmines surrounding it and fences with barbed wire, Ares.  She could hear a lot of fighting in that one, most males, maybe a couple females.  

They came to the sixth cabin and Catherine pointed.  “This is my cabin, Athena.  She’s my mother.  My brother, Arthur, he’s the head counselor,” she said her brother’s name with distaste and Ember smirked.  Was there some sibling rivalry going on here?  “But he won’t be for long,” Catherine said simply and she walked past.  They were onto cabin seven now, Apollo, the metallic one that shone like gold.  This must have been the cabin with all of those blonde haired kids, along with Athena.  Catherine seemed to be the only exception with her auburn hair.  

They came to another cabin that seemed to be empty and Catherine’s eyes softened as they approached it.  “Cabin Eight, this is Artemis’ cabin.”

“Why does it look used?” Ember asked curiously.  “Isn’t Artemis a maiden goddess?  No kids?”

Catherine nodded.  “Yeah, but her hunters sometimes come in.”  She caught the questioning look on Ember’s face and she smirked.  “The Hunters of Artemis, a group of teenage girls who travel the world and kill monsters.  Only downside is that they are pretty much sworn off boys for the rest of their lives if they join.” 

“Oh,” Ember said, a disappointed look crossing her face.  She was momentarily tempted to join these hunters, they sounded like they could kick some ass.

Catherine laughed.  “Yeah, me too.  I’ve always loved Artemis...honestly, I’ve always thought of her as a mother figure more than my own mother.  Artemis seems to care more about her followers than Athena...to Athena, every mortal is just a pawn in a game.”  

Catherine’s voice had taken on a tone that sounded almost bitter, so Ember quickly changed the subject.  “What about that one?” she asked, pointing to the next cabin, cabin nine.  It looked like a big factory and Catherine looked over.

“That’s Hephaestus.  My friend, Mikhail lives there.”

“That big guy?  The one you like?”

Catherine looked over at her with a frown.  “Yeah, the big guy and trust me, I don’t like him.  Why does everyone think that,” she shook her head and gestured towards the tenth cabin.  “And that’s-”

“Is that a new camper?”

Ember and Catherine turned around, and Ember immediately felt a shiver slide down her spine.  A girl and a boy were approaching them, an obvious couple.  They had their arms linked and they were walking in step.  The guy looked very pleased with himself, with messy blonde hair and a smile that touched his lips that told Ember his head was pretty big.  His light blue eyes told her that he was probably a son of Apollo.  He was good looking, but he was absolutely nothing compared to the girl beside him.  She was the most gorgeous person Ember had ever seen in her life, and that included models, actresses, all of them.  She was pale, her skin unnaturally white with eyes that were so dark that they seemed black.  She raven black hair that lay down to her waist in curls and waves, with a natural look rather than the stiff, gel induced goopy mess that most girls with that style had, and it contrasted against the white sundress that she wore down to her knees.  Her face, her body, everything was absolutely perfect.  

“Hey, Sabrina,” Catherine said with a smile.  ‘Yeah, this is Ember, she’s new.”

“Welcome to Camp Half-Blood!” Said the blonde guy, stretching out a hand with a grin and Ember took it hesitantly.  “My name is Zack Stratton, I’m the counselor over at Cabin Seven.”  Apollo, so she’d been right.

“You look familiar,” Ember said quietly, watching Zack.  The guy blinked and a look of surprise and nervousness washed over his face.  Ember was sure she had seen him before...that smile, the way he carried himself...but that wasn’t possible, she had never seen any of these people before in her life.

“You must be mistaken,” Sabrina said from beside Zack, holding his arm as she leaned her head against his biceps.  Her voice sang like bells.  “And I’m Sabrina,” she smiled.  Ember then noticed the amulet that she wore around her neck.  It was a dark, silver chain and the pendent looked like a fang, silver.  “The counselor of the Aphrodite Cabin,” she pointed to a disgustingly pink cabin.  Ember could smell the perfume from where she stood.  Sabrina must have caught the look of disgust, because she gave a singsong little laugh.  “Don’t worry,” she said with a smile.  “Not all the members are little princesses.”

“Sabrina is one of the most badass campers we have,” Zack said with a grin, leaning over and planted a kiss on Sabrina’s head.  The girl gave a weak smile.

“Maybe not badass.  But I-”

“Don’t be modest,” Catherine said with a roll of her eyes.  “I saw you take out Cole like it was nothing.”

Sabrina frowned and opened her mouth to say something, but Zack barked a laugh and gave the girl a hug.  “Come on, no point in arguing.  My girl’s the sexiest, most badass chick in this camp and no one can deny it,” he gave her another kiss, and Ember caught the smallest hint of irritation in the girl’s eyes before it was replaced by a smile.

“All right,” she said, giving in and she went up on her tip-toes, kissing Zack on the lips and she grasped his hand and began to pull him away.  “Good luck, Ember,” she said over her shoulder, and the couple walked away, instantly being followed by male and female admirers alike.  

“Who the hell is she,” Ember muttered, and Catherine glanced over at her, a look of surprise on her face.

“Sabrina Amandine.  She’s Chiron’s right hand...woman.  She helps him with big decisions and is kind of a mini camp counselor.  She’s really cool, I think you’ll like her.”

“I’m sure,” Ember said, sarcasm lacing her voice.  Whether Catherine detected it or not, she couldn’t tell because she moved along with the tour.  

“So yeah, that was the Aphrodite cabin, as Sabrina pointed out, and this is where you’ll be staying,” she pointed at a cabin that looked like any ordinary cabin that you would find at any ordinary camp.  “It might be a little cramped.  Okay, a lot cramped.  That’s where most of the...” she trailed off as someone came into both of their views.  That Elijah kid.  His hair was still wet from when Ember soaked him and he moved towards the Hermes cabin, ignoring the pair of them.  He slipped inside and Catherine sighed as he closed the door.  “You’re going to be stuck with him, unfortunately.  Anyways, all of the unclaimed demigods and children of the minor gods stay in there.  My best friend, Mason stays in there.  He’s a good guy, so are most of them.  Elijah however...”

“Elijah’s just a little prick that you should probably just avoid,” came a voice from behind, and the two turned around to face yet another girl approaching her.  This girl also had black hair, but it was nothing like Sabrina’s.  It was curly and tangly, but in an almost attractive way, with light blue eyes and a cocky smile that was patched onto her face.  She turned the smile over to Ember and held out a hand.  Ember was far more welcoming of this hand than Sabrina’s.  “Hey, you’re a newbie, right?  I’m the counselor here, my name is Odessa.  Or Dess.  Whichever you prefer, I guess.”

“She’s going to be staying with you, Dess,” Catherine said, nodding at Ember. 

“You are, huh?” Odessa said, looking back over at Ember, examining her.  “Not a kid of Hermes, minor god?”  Was Hecate a minor god?  Probably, she wasn’t an Olympian.  She nodded and Odessa rubbed her jaw.  “All right, and seeing as you’re new, I’ll go ahead and give you the rules.  First, we don’t steal from each other.  Only every other cabin.  Second, you listen to me, unless you don’t want to.  And third, just don’t be a jerk.”

“Those seem pretty easy to follow,” Ember said with a smile.

“Odessa, do you mind showing Ember around for the last part of the tour?  We just need to cover the Dionysus cabin, the armory, stables, the Big House, the climbing wall, the arena, the-”

“All right, I get the point,” Odessa laughed, raising a hand.  “Everything but the cabins.  Got it.”

“Thanks,” Catherine said, looking back over at Ember.  “I’ll check up on you after I do some...stuff.”

“Stuff involving your knight in shining armor?” Odessa teased, raising a brow.  

Catherine blushed and scowled.  “Yeah, it has to do with Mason, but he is definitely not my knight in shining armor.  I’ll find you when I’m done,” she huffed and turned around, her face red and her hands shoved into her pockets.  

Odessa cackled.  “It’s no secret that she and Mason like each other.  And since they never admit their feelings, we just go ahead and tease them to pieces about it.  Come on, let’s check out the stables first.”

When Odessa said stables, Ember imagined it to be like any ordinary stables.  But she supposed by now, it was foolish to think that anything would be ordinary.  The stable itself was average, save the giant holes in the ceiling, but the creatures inside were definitely not.  She stopped about twenty feet from it as one of the creatures stepped out.  “That’s a pegasus,” she whispered and Odessa nodded.  

“Sure is.  We don’t have any normal horses,” she walked past Ember and into the the building, giving a little whistle.  One of the pegasi, a dark brown one, walked up hesitantly as she held out her hand, and then bumped it affectionately with its nose.  “Besides,” she said, stroking the animal.  “A pegasus is way better than a regular horse,” she gave the creature one more stroke and then stepped away.  “All right, next let’s go to the armory.”

 

By the time the tour was over, it was nighttime and everyone was already in their cabins.  Snores echoed around her as she picked her way over towards the Hermes cabin alone.  Odessa had taken off to go talk to one of her friends after she finished showing her around, some girl named Blaze.  That was all right with Ember, she wanted some time to relax and be by herself for a bit.

Walking as quietly as she could, she slowly opened the door, but even while trying to be stealthy, she couldn’t stop the long creak.  

She cringed, stepping inside and she closed the door behind her and it thudded shut.

“You must be the new girl.”

She spun around, spotting that guy, Mason. He was sitting on a bottom bunk, wearing some pajamaas and his feet were planted on the ground, his hands in his lap.

“Yeah, I saw you before Catherine took me on the tour,” Ember whispered.  Moonlight sifted through the windows and she looked over as she caught some movement.  Elijah.  She could see him on the floor...now that she was looking, there were a couple kids on the floor.  The room really was packed.  The kid was groaning in his sleep.

“A nightmare,” Mason said, glancing back at where she was looking.

“Catherine said he murdered someone,” Ember whispered, closing the door behind her and she moved into the cabin beside Mason’s bed.  He patted down on his bunk and she sat down beside him, drawing her feet up and she leaned up against the bedpost behind her, watching Mason.  “Is that true?”  It was a little unnerving to be sleeping in the same room as a murderer.

Mason hesitated.  “Elijah...he did kill someone, but it wasn’t really his fault.”

“What do you mean?” 

Mason glanced over in Elijah’s direction, to make sure the kid wasn’t yet awake before he turned back over to Ember.  “Elijah has had a pretty rough life,” he admitted.  “I mean, all demigods have had rough lives, but Elijah’s was pretty bad.  He told me everything in the first week that he came here.  His mom was pretty neglectful.  She hated Elijah because he wasn’t normal.  She had basically been seduced by Boreas.  His stepfather, his mother’s husband, hated him even more and beat him when he was a kid.  He had some older mortal siblings too that were constantly harassing him.  Eventually, he ran away and came here.  Most kids get it pretty easy when they come here, if they meet the right people.  Elijah...he met the wrong people.  He was bullied by a couple Ares kids, they were lead by this kid named Gregory Sloan.  During a Capture the Flag game a few years ago, a couple kids had cornered him.  They were going to kill him and Elijah...well, he defended himself.  He turned Gregory to ice, killing him and since then, everyone has pretty much hated him.

Ember frowned, immediately feeling defensive for Elijah.  “But it wasn’t his fault,” she hissed.  “He was just defending himself.”

Mason shrugged.  “I know.  But that’s not what the Ares kids said.  And Elijah was already pretty bitter before then, so I guess it was easier to believe Gregory’s goons,” he glanced at his watch and gave a yawn.  “You should probably get to bed,” he muttered.  “I made you a bed,” he gestured over towards a spot near Elijah.  It seemed no one wanted to sleep by him, because he had a considerable amount of space near him.  A sleepingbag and a couple pillows lay on the ground and Ember smiled at Mason.

“Thanks,” she said gratefully, making her way over to the sleepingbag and she slid inside.  It wasn’t very comfy, especially considering she was sleeping on the floor, but it was the most comfortable place she’s been able to sleep since the airport, so she nestled in and closed her eyes, going to sleep.

 

She woke up to whispers.  They were coming from right beside her.  Elijah.  She opened her eyes, trying to listen.  

“-to the camp yesterday,” Elijah was whispering.  She heard another voice speaking back, but it definitely wasn’t a camper.  It was like they were talking on the phone, but she hadn’t seen one cellphone since she’s been there, which was strange, seeing that they were a bunch of teenagers.  Elijah’s tone took on one of irritation.  “I can’t just grab her.  I’ll need something to keep the others busy.”

That didn’t sound good.  Ember slowly rolled over.  Elijah was leaning against the wall, his face being lit up by a tablet...wait, not a tablet.  It was a bowl.  The water inside was glowing a light blue color, lighting up his angular face.  Black hair fell around his face as he peered into the bowl, and she could see his light grey eyes reflecting in the light.  “I know,” he whispered, closing his eyes with a pained expression.  “I’ll make sure it gets done.”  The light began to dim until he was sitting there holding a bowl of black water and he sat there for a long time.  It was then that Ember heard the first little choked sob.  Her throat constricted as the sound came from the boy, he set the bowl beside him and curled into his sleeping bag, and although he was no longer crying, she could hear the sniffs coming from the boy.  Something was wrong...but instead of going over to ask what was wrong, to try and comfort him, she gave a soft sigh and closed her eyes, going back to sleep with a question in her mind: Who had Elijah been talking to?  And more importantly, about what?


	10. A Dead Boy's Blade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. Things have been stressful AF here. V.V Enjoy this chapter!

Nathan groaned, his head slumping to the side.  Gods, his head felt like it had been smashed against a brick.  He was lying on something that felt very fluffy and very comfy.  A bed?  How?  He could vaguely remember drilling into the earth like a nail after jumping out of a plane.  He opened his eyes groggily, immediately tensing up as he realized he didn’t recognize this room.  Where the hell was he?! He cringed, propping himself up on one elbow.  

Nathan was in what looked like a hospital.  A plain room with white walls, and there were several bed like tables that others were stretched out sleeping on, some of their arms in slings, some of them with huge gashes or burns, like they had just gotten back from a war.  They were around his age, from about fourteen to eighteen.  Just kids.  Where the hell was he?  

He looked down and frowned.  He wasn’t wearing his clothes, he had on a white...nightgown?  Whatever you call those hospital clothes.  Either way, it was white and it looked like a dress, and Nathan despised it.  

“Hello?” he called, swinging his legs over the edge and he cringed, his hand flying to his chest.  What was wrong with it?  He moved aside some of the fabric from the dress thing and narrowed his eyes.  There were three long gashes on his chest.  They almost had the look of a scar.  It had obviously been really bad when he had gotten, but it already looked healed... how long had he been out?

He stood up and immediately gasped in pain, his hand flying out to the bed and he took a deep breath, steadying himself as he closed his eyes.  

“You’d better be careful.”

Nathan spun around and met the eyes of another guy.  He was leaning against the wall, his hands bloody and he wore one of those apron things.  His hair was a sandy blonde and he had the cocky smile of a guy who thought he ruled the world.  

“Who are you?” Nathan asked, his eyes narrowed and suspicious.  So far, dealing with strangers had resulted i him being captured and being thrust out of an airplane.  He was going to be careful with this guy.

He must have caught the cautious edge in Nathan’s voice, because he lifted his hands up in a surrendering gesture.  “Chill.  I’m a camper here, I’m Zack.”

“Camper?  I’m at a camp?” he frowned, glancing over at the injured campers.  “What, a military camp?”  He remembered that Austin was going to send them to a camp, but this...what was this?  

“Yup, Camp Half-Blood, or uh, you might know it as Delphi Strawberry Service.”  Nathan stared blankly.  “Guess you haven’t heard of it...Either way, it’s a place for demigods.”

There was that word again. Demigod.  Nathan groaned as his legs buckled a little and Zack frowned, reaching out and grabbed his shoulder, steadying him.

“Careful,” Zack said, smiling, but it was hesitant.  “You got pretty hurt yesterday.”

“Yesterday?  It’s almost healed.”

“Ambrosia and nectar,” Zack plucked a couple objects off of a nearby shelf.  One was a little vial filled with a golden liquid, almost like syrup.  “Have a taste.”  Nathan watched Zack suspiciously and Zack rolled his eyes.  “It’s not poison,” and just to prove it, he popped the cork and took a little sip, a shudder going through his body and he grinned, holding it back to Nathan.  “See?”

Nathan nodded and took the flask from him, taking a swig.  His eyes widened and he drew the glass away from his lips.  “It tastes like nutella.”

“Does it?  Tastes like popcorn for me.”  Nathan went to take another sip and Zack quickly snatched it away.  “Yeah, no.  Drink too much and you’ll blow up.”

“Like in flames?”

“Precisely.”

Nathan shook his head.  By now, nothing could surprise him.  He gestured to the other item in Zack’s hand, what looked like chocolate wrapped in tin foil.  Zack glanced down at it.  “That was nectar, this is ambrosia,” he ripped off a piece and handed it to Nathan.  Nutella again.  

“It’s the drink and food of the gods, changing its flavor to whatever your favorite food or drink is,” he grinned, taking a bite and took it back.  “And it will also incinerate you if you drink too much.”

“Seems like that’s a very likely possibility, here.”

“You bet,” he leaned against the wall, cracking his neck.  He seemed like an egotistical young man.  “I’d better go and get Chiron.”

Chiron.  The name was familiar.  “Sure.  You do that.”

As soon as Zack left the infirmary, Nathan’s hand wrapped around one of the scalpels on a table and slipped out the door behind him.  

The light was sudden and fierce, hitting Nathan’s eyes and he squinted them to slits, raising a hand above his brow to block out the light.  Ember.  He had to find her, they had to get out of there.  Ambrosia, nectar, demigods, these people were all insane.  

A volleyball came at his face and socked him in the nose.  He shouted in surprise, dropping the blade and leaned over, holding his nose as he felt blood dripping from his nostrils.  Not broken, but damn, that hurt.

“Hey, sorry!” came a laugh and he looked up at another blonde, who was grinning like nothing had happened.  “Want to play?”

“No,” Nathan growled, thrusting the ball back at the guy, who now wasn’t alone as the other volleyball players were beginning to approach.  

“Come on man,” the guy approached Nathan and went to grab his shoulder, but Nathan instinctively knocked his arm away and ducked down, grabbing his blade and extended the scalpel in a threatening manner.

Instantly, four swords were drawn and pointed at Nathan’s throat.  

Swords.  

There were swords to his throat.  

He instantly immobilized, dropping the scalpel to the grass and the guy who had invited him to play frowned, gripping the sword.  

“What the hell is your problem, man?” he growled.  

“I-”

“What’s going on here?”

The five glanced over and Nathan’s knees buckled, nearly collapsing to the ground.  

A centaur.  He knew it was a centaur, half horse and with the torso of a man.  He was athletic, and he wore a white, button-down shirt and had a bushy, shaggy brown beard, glasses and warm brown eyes.  His lower horse half was white and was digging into the ground.  Zack stood beside him, raising a brow questioningly at the drawn swords.

“This kook just tried to shank me,” said the blonde beside Nathan, using his boot to professionally flip the scalpel into the air and caught it with his left hand, tossing it backwards to one of his buddies.  “We were just asking if he wanted to play.”

“Nathan is new,” Chiron explained and he looked back at Nathan, his eyes unfocused, like he was thinking.  “Are you alright?”

“I just want answers,” Nathan growled.  Such as, how do you exist? “Real ones, for once.”

The centaur began to approach, but this time, Nathan stayed still.  Outrunning or outfighting was definitely not an option here.  Chiron stretched out a hand, and Nathan tensed, but when he put the hand on his shoulder, it was almost comfortable.  A fatherly warmth to it.  “You’ll have your answers,” Chiron said, and Nathan believed him.  

“When?”

A soft smile touched Chiron’s lips.  “Soon.  I promise.”  He looked at the open door of the infirmary and back to Nathan.  “I suppose you haven’t had a chance to explore the camp just yet.”

Nathan shook his head.

Chiron nodded and looked down at Zack, who was toying with a bracelet on his wrist.  “Would you mind showing Nathan to his cabin?  As well as the armory...I believe it’s time that the boy learned how to use a blade.”

Nathan felt a little burst of excitement ignite in his chest upon hearing those words, but as always, he retained his cool and in control expression.  Zack grinned and gave a nod.  “Absolutely, sir,” he saluted the centaur and smiled at Nathan.  “Come on.”

“Wait,” Nathan growled, leering up at Chiron.  “I want answers now, Charon-”

“Chiron.  Charon mans the boat that takes ghosts into the underworld.”

“...right.  Anyways, _Chiron._ I want answers now.”

Chiron stepped up to Nathan, towering over him.  “Nathan.  I have things I need to do,” he said.  “I know you want answers.  I know you’re confused.  But you must wait.  I promise I will answer all of your questions.”

Nathan hesitated, before giving in and he gave a sigh.  “Whatever.”

Zack put an arm around Nathan’s neck in a buddy like manner and Nathan had to resist the urge to elbow the guy in the stomach.  He was bristling as the blonde lead him away from Chiron, who examined them for a moment longer before turning tail.

“So, judging by your angry demeanor, shitty attitude and black hair, ect, ect, I’m guessing you’re a kid of Hades?”

“Good guess,” Nathan muttered.  He glanced over at Zack.  “Pretty boy, pompous, girly features, I’m guessing you’re Aphrodite?”

Zack barked a laugh.  “I take that as a compliment.  Nah, I’m in Apollo,” he pointed towards a building that reflected the sun, giving it a golden glow.  “My girlfriend is in Aphrodite though.”

Nathan nodded as if he cared and took the moment to look around.  On the outside, the camp appeared to be normal.  Arts and crafts, horseback riding, rockwall climbing.  But then you noticed the details.  Such as the crafts they were forging were swords, the horses had wings and there was lava creeping down the side of the wall.

“So uh, this happens every day, right?” Nathan muttered as they passed a couple guys sparring with their blades, faces hidden by greek helms.

“Pretty much,” Zack said with a shrug.  “We need to train in order to survive.”

“To survive what?” Nathan asked.  But he already knew the answer.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t seen any monsters yet,” Zack glanced over at him.  “Kid of Hades?  You should have been swamped by monsters.”

Nathan thought back to his childhood.  Before he met Mrs. Wilson, he was always surrounded by monsters.  They followed him, watched him.  Well, one monster in particular.  The black hound with the red eyes.  But for the ten years he was at the orphanage...there was nothing.  And as soon as he left, he was being attacked.  Something about that orphanage protected him...but what?

“So are you guys always attacked?”

“No, we’re protected by the fleece.”

“The fleece?”

Zack pointed and Nathan followed his finger to the large pine tree that was draped with what looked like a quilt, but it shimmered golden in the sun.  And wrapped at its base...

His face turned ashen.  “Is that a dragon?”

“Sure is.”

Nathan shook his head, trying not to stumble.  It was all a lot to take in.  He was surprised he wasn’t having a minor panic attack.  

He wondered briefly how Ember was doing...he hadn’t seen her yet.  “Do you know where my friend is?”

“Who, that Ember chick?  Who knows, probably with Catherine.”

That Ember chick.  Nathan scowled, but said nothing as he followed Zack.  They came to a small building connected to one of the “cabins” and it had the appearance of a large, metallic shed.  “This is our armory,” Zack announced, opening the door and lead Nathan inside.

Nathan had only seen weapons and blades a couple times.  Mrs. Wilson had one.  He’d seen Austin with one.  The campers had some.  But now, he was completely surrounded by them.  His heart fluttered and he stepped inside, examining the room.  Weapon racks were strung up on walls. Shields were leaning against the walls in lines and in the corners were barrels filled with swords and blades.

“As a son of Hades, you should have a stygian iron blade...but those are hard to come by, so you’ll have to make do with a regular celestial bronze sword.”

“Celestial bronze?” Nathan asked, lifting a sword from a barrel.  His hand fell slightly from its weight.  It was heavy.  

“Yeah.  It’s the metal of the gods.  It’ll pass straight through humans, but it can destroy monsters with a single touch.”

That must have been why the monsters turned to dust instead of getting impaled and bleeding out, Nathan thought as he looked at the weapon.  It was uncomfortably large, so he placed it back in the barrel and began to browse through the weapons.  There was a large variety of different weapons of war.  A bow.  But his aim was terrible, he would be awful with a bow.  He picked up a dagger and attempted to flip it, resulting in it clattering to the ground.  He ignored Zack’s sniggers as he placed it back in the barrel.  

His eyes landed on a rusty blade that rested in a barrel filled with broken weapons and arrow shafts.  Instinct told him to take it, and so he gripped the handle, heaving it out of the barrel.  It was perfect.  Balancing perfectly in his hands, he swung it experimentally a few times and already, it almost felt natural to him.  It wasn’t the best looking sword, it was marked up with dents and scratches, rusty and the pommel was dirty, but otherwise, it was perfect.

“This one,” he decided, turning to face Zack.

Zack pinched his eyebrows.  “That one?  But it’s so-”

“It feels right.”

Zack watched Nathan for a long while, and finally he sighed and gave a shrug.  “Whatev, I’m not a sword fighter.  I’m good with my bow and if you feel it’s right, then I guess it’s up to you.  I think you should probably get it fixed up later, though at the forge.”

A forge.  They have everything here, don’t they.  

“Nice sword, Bones.”

Zack glanced over and his eyes widened.  It was the girl that he had tackled when he landed.  She had a big bruise on the side of her head and she walked with a bit of a limp, but there was an amused smile on her face as she approached him, followed closely by a dark skinned girl with long, wavy raven hair.  

“Thanks,” Nathan said, ignoring the irritating nickname.  Obviously a pun concerning his father.  “Sorry about yesterday.”

“Oh, you mean slamming into me at thirty miles an hour?  No big deal,” she waved her hand dismissively and extended her hand.  Nathan hesitantly gave her the blade and she peered at it, her eyes wrinkling as she studied it.  “I know this sword,” she said slowly, suddenly holding the blade like it might explode as she handed it back.  “You should probably get rid of it.”

“Why?” Nathan asked.

“It belonged to a camper.  Who’s dead.”

Nathan’s blood went cold.  “This belongs to a dead guy?” he asked quietly, looking back down. The dents, the scratches, it probably happened when the camper was killed and she nodded.  Part of Nathan wanted to go back inside and put the sword back.  He felt almost criminal using the blade of a dead camper.  “Who?”

Catherine’s face darkened.  Touchy subject?  “Doesn’t matter.  Put it back.”

“No,” Nathan said shortly.  She raised a brow.  “It’s perfect for me.  I don’t know why, but it’s...” he hesitated.  “It’s natural for me.  I can’t give it up...and maybe I can make it up to the dead guy by using it right.” As if, he’d barely ever held a blade in his life.

“I tried to get him to put it back,” Zack piped up.  “But he wouldn’t listen.”

“Shut up, Zack.”  Catherine watched Nathan carefully and nodded.  “Let’s see how natural you are with it.”

Before Nathan knew what was happened, Catherine had grabbed his arm and was pulling him towards what looked like an arena, a small, colosseum like area.  She shoved him into the center and he stumbled a few feet, nearly dropping his sword.  

“Uh, Catherine, are you sure-” Zack began, but he shut up after the girl gave him a seething look.

“You want that blade?  You’re going to have to fight me for it,” she said simply, and the girl then drew two bronze daggers from the sheaths at her side.

“Are you crazy?” Nathan hissed, getting into something that he thought looked like a combat stance, his feet awkwardly positioned.  He could see out of the corner of his eyes campers that were beginning to gather, whispering and pointing at him.  “I’ve never even used a blade in my life.”

Catherine grinned.  “Well, I guess chances are you won’t be using that sword then,” and she leaped at him.

Nathan gasped, backing up quickly and the bronze dagger barely missed his shoulder.  She flew past him and he was just barely able to deflect one dagger by raising his blade, a loud clinging noise making his ears ring.

“Catherine!” Shouted the dark haired girl from the sidelines.  

Obviously, Catherine had gone insane.  

Many times her daggers came flying at him, and he was being pressed back, one step at a time, towards the edge of the arena, his arms a flurry as he deflected each blow.  A dagger sliced open his shirt and he gasped in pain, lowering his blade and another dagger came at his sword, slashing his arm.  A line of red began to show through his white apparel.  

He looked up, glowering at the auburn haired girl.  She was smirking, like she had won.  

Spinning, her daggers came at him again and this time, like he could predict her movements, he ducked down, feeling the edge of her blade clip the top of his hair and twirled to the side as the other came slashing down towards his side.  He spun around her, his body weaving around hers until he now stood behind her and he gritted his teeth, using his arm to knock away the blade in her hand.  

One of her daggers clattered to the ground.

She was in shock, enough shock that she didn’t react in time when his body slammed into hers, knocking her to the ground.  

He sliced downwards with his blade, no longer worrying about hurting her and the girl rolled out of the way, his sword stabbing into the ground and she was up on her feet, drawing a larger sword from a scabbard at her hip.

“You’re good,” she admitted with a pant, using her hand to brush away some hair that had fallen in her face  “Show me what you’ve got.”

She came at him again and this time, he knew what to do.  Sidestepping her attack, he twirled around, knocking the blade against her back with the dull end of the blade and she gasped, bending over in pain.  His foot was out, knocking her feet out from under her, and she fell to the ground, her sword falling from her hands.  

He was over her then, his blade to her throat and she was looking up at him with an astonished look on her face.  Peering around at the others, he realized that the looks on the campers faces were very similar, jaws dropped as they watched him with awe.  Catherine swallowed and whispered, “that was really good, Nathan...you’ve never held a sword before?”

“Never,” Nathan admitted, sticking out a hand and helped her up.

“Well, you’re amazing.”  She examined him for a while, her eyes narrowed and she said finally, “sucks that you’re not on my Capture the Flag team.”


	11. Prophecy of a Soothsayer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Image was commissioned for this story, it is not for public use.

Mason had to force himself to look calm as he watched the display between Nathan and Catherine.  At first, it had seemed like Nathan had been telling the truth.  The guy really didn’t know what he was doing, how to hold the sword, what stance to be in.  He managed to dodge the first few blows out of pure luck, from the looks of it.  But then, he got better.  And better.  The angrier Nathan seemed to get, the better he got until he was flurrying the sword like a master, like he had been holding it for years.  After he started to get used to the weapon, it took Nathan barely a minute to totally wipe out Catherine.

Catherine wasn’t the best fighter out there.  She was more stealthy than anything, but Mason figured she would have been able to at least hold out against a guy who had never held a sword in his life.  But he beat her.  And when the fight was over, and Catherine turned her gaze over in Mason’s direction, Mason knew that she was nearly as alarmed as he was.  There was something up with that Nathan kid, and it was more than the fact that he was a son of Hades.  

He leaned against a tree, watching Catherine approach him.  He opened his mouth to say something, but was quickly interrupted by a perky blonde son of Apollo beside him.

“Gurl, you got your ass handed to you.”

Mason and Catherine turned a glare over to Zack, who was grinning from ear to ear as he walked up to them.  He obviously found the situation very amusing.  “Did you let him win or are you losing your stuff?”

“I’m not losing my stuff,” Catherine hissed.  “Nathan...he was just really good.”

“What do you think it is?” Mason muttered in an undertone.  He had caught the stares of several campers that were milling around and he had noticed that their proximity was growing closer with every word they said.  Word would spread soon about Nathan’s ability.  Sure, there were a lot of good swordsmen out there, but Nathan...that really was amazing, especially for a first timer.  

Catherine shook her head, a frustrated look on her face.  “I’m not sure.  I can’t think of anything that would enhance him with that kind of ability.”

“Catherine!”

Catherine looked over as Rose came up to her, grasping her bruised arm and watching it with a frown.  “Are you okay?” Rose asked, bringing her big, doe brown eyes up to Catherine, who nodded.  

“I’m okay.  Just a little sore.”  She knew better than to yank her arm away and claim that she was fine.  When Rose was concerned about you, it was best to just let her do her thing.

Rose looked up at Catherine skeptically and reached into a light blue satchel that hung over her shoulder, pulling out most, wet seaweed.  Catherine wrinkled her nose and cringed as Rose squished it down onto her arm.  But as soon as the fluid from the seaweed touched her bruised flesh, the swelling and pain instantly diminished and she let out a breath.  “Thanks,” she murmured as Rose pulled the plant back into her med pack.  “Whose team is Nathan going to be on?”

“Blue.  As well as Ares, Aphrodite, Zeus, Dionysus and the children of the minor gods.”

“Damn,” Catherine hissed, looking down.  “I was hoping I could be on his team so that I would be able to watch him.”  She brought her eyes up to Mason.  “Can you watch him?

Mason nodded.  “Absolutely.”

“What about me?” Zack asked, stepping forward and Catherine gave him a short glare.  Mason could practically read the girl’s mind through the glare.  She didn’t like Zack.  He was an idiot, and she didn’t think he could be of any use.  But Mason didn’t want the guy’s feelings to get hurt.

“How good are you at being stealthy, Zack?”

“Pretty good.”

“As long as he isn’t talking,” Catherine muttered bitterly, and Mason elbowed her.  

“All right.  Can you keep on extra eye on Nathan then?”

Zack beamed, happy at having been given something to do and he gave a dramatic bow, dipping low and he gave Catherine a wink, laughing at the way she bristled.  “Of course, my lord and lady.  As you desire,” he gave a curtsey like a little princess would and walked off, immediately greeted by his friends who tackled him, smiling and laughing.  

“I don’t like him,” Catherine growled.

“I noticed.  Go easy on him.  So what’s the plan, red head?  You’re planning this, after all.”

Catherine grinned, her face lighting up.  “Like I’d tell you,” she said with a laugh, punching his shoulder.  She looked around Mason’s shoulder.  “And find Ember and Nathan while you’re at it, let them know what’s going on.”

 

Nathan stood in the center of the ring for a long moment after Catherine left.  He ignored the hollars, the congratulations.  Those who touched him or gave him a slap on the shoulder, he sent a glare up to, but otherwise remained still.  Until Ember punched him hard in the arm.

“Ow!” He rubbed his arm and gave her a sharp glare.  “What was that for?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you knew how to swordfight?!”

“I didn’t!  I mean, I don’t!” Nathan growled and shook his head, sheathing the blade at his side and he rubbed the back of his neck.  

“Nathan,” Ember said, moving around him so that she could look into his eyes.  “You learned that somewhere.  I’ve known you ever since you came to the orphanage ten years ago.  How did you get that good?  Because you were amazing.”

Nathan sighed and looked at his feet, giving a helpless shrug.  “I don’t know.  I don’t know how I’m so good, I just am.”

Ember scowled.  There was a look of suspicion in her eye, as if she didn’t believe him, but she gave in.  “Fine.  Maybe one day you’ll teach me.”  She raised a brow.  “And you’d better.  I want to kick butt, too.”

“You’ll have your chance soon.”  Nathan turned around, his jaw dropping slightly as a girl approached them.  She was...well.  She was the most gorgeous human being she had ever seen.  Raven black hair that curled its way down to her waist, dark, ebon eyes-  Ember elbowed him in the side and he squirmed, rubbing his ribs while giving her a quick glare.  

“Nathan, meet Sabrina, Sabrina, Nathan,” Ember muttered.  

“It’s good to finally meet you,” Sabrina said with a dazzling smile, extending a hand which Nathan uncharacteristically took.  “We will be on the same team.  Mason tells me you will be guarding the flag with him.”

“Me too,” Ember said defiantly and Sabrina shook her head.  

“No.  Only two can guard the flag, and Mason wants some time to speak with Nathan.  You will be on the ambush team.”

Ember scowled.  She didn’t like being told what to do, but she kept quiet.  Sabrina didn’t seem like the kind of girl that you say no to.  “Okay.”  Sabrina was watching her expectently, and Ember, upon realizing that she was supposed to be leaving, scowled at Sabrina a little before taking her leave, swearing and cussing under her breath as she kicked a plumed helmet away from the pair.

“Sorry,” Nathan apologized, giving a roll of his eyes.  Ember was so emotional.  “She’s just like that.”

“She’s very bitter,” Sabrina noted, watching after the black haired teen, her dark eyes glittering in the light.  “And jealous.”

“Jealous?” Nathan asked with a frown, looking up at Sabrina.  “Of what?”

By the, ‘are you serious?’ look that Sabrina gave him, Nathan supposed he should have been able to guess.  “She likes you,” she stated simply, and turned around and walked towards the armory, hips swinging from side to side like a sexy pendulum.  

“What did she say to you?”

Nathan turned around.  Mason was leaning against a tree, decked out in some sweet armor, his helm sporting a blue plume and his wavy brown hair poking out in strands.  In one hand he held a bronze blade and in the other  “How long have you been there?” Nathan growled guardedly.

Mason shrugged.  “Long enough.  Be careful around her.”

“Why?”

Mason smirked.  “She can read people, Nathan.  Maybe not their literal thoughts but their emotions, their body language.  She can get in your head in ways that you can’t....” he hesitated.  He was holding a sword and he balanced it in his hand, his golden eyes watching the blade and he sighed.  “You can’t escape it.  Unless you stay away from her.”  He brought his eyes up.  “You ready?”

“Yeah, about that, we won’t actually be like...hurting each other, will we?”

Mason chuckled darkly.  “The purpose of the game is so that we can learn how to function as a team and attack and destroy monsters.  We can’t learn how to fight if we go easy on each other.  The only rule is no maiming, killing or massive scarring.  Other than that, it’s a free game.”

Nathan nodded, his face pallid.  “No maiming.  Got it.”

A horn blew in the distance and Mason nodded his head towards the forest.  “That means the game is about to start.  Let’s get you geared up.”

He lead Nathan over to the armory where they went through several shelves and barrels that held breastplates, greaves, gauntlets.  Nathan didn’t want anything heavy or bulky.  He could barely move in anything too thick, so they settled with some studded leather armor and greaves and the metal helm that was a little too big on Nathan’s head, the tip dipping down onto his forehead a few times and Nathan had to continuously push it up so that it wouldn’t get in his way.  After double checking to make sure Nathan had some water, ambrosia, a little bit of nectar and his blade, the two made their way into the forest.

Nathan could hear the sounds of demigods preparing for battle, at least on their side.  “So how do you play?” he asked, stepping over a log.  He could hear a river in the distance, or maybe a creek.

“Just like any normal capture the flag game I guess,” Mason said.  “The entire forest is fair game.  The creek,” he gestured to where Nathan could hear the running water.  “Is the boundary line between the Red Team and the Blue Team.  Magic items are allowed-”

“How do you get one?”

“What, a magic item?”

“Yeah.”

“You can’t just find one at the armory.  You have to make it yourself or your parent gives it to you.  Some people find theirs.”

“Do you have one?”

Mason frowned.  “No.  My dad never claimed me, so I never got anything from him.  That’s okay, though.  I’m alright with just a sword.”  He hurriedly went on with explaining the rules.  “You can take prisoners, if you manage to incapacitate someone you can take their weapons, but we’re not allowed to tie them up or gag them, unfortunately.”

“A shame.  We could finally shut Zack up.”

Mason grinned at that.  “When it comes to us and our rules, as guards, we can’t stand closer than ten feet away from it.  And it has to be in a place where it is easily seen, so we can’t hide it or anything.  And that’s about it.”

A roar echoed in the distance and the two demigods immediately tesed up.  Both swords were already out of their scabbards and held before them as they gazed off into the darkness, still and silent.  “What was-” Nathan started, but Mason snapped a silencing finger in Nathan quited down.

“A monster,” Mason muttered.  “There are a couple that are in these forests to test the demigods.”

“To test them?”

“Yeah.  But during these games, they know to keep their distance. Normally.  There are too many demigods around, they would definitely be destroyed if they showed their ugly faces.”

Nathan stopped and Mason turned with concern.  “Are you okay?” he asked.

Nathan chuckled darkly.  “Okay?  Not really.  It’s just all...I’m just...”

An understanding look sparked in Mason’s eyes.  “I get it,” he assured Nathan.  “It’s overwhelming, I get it.  It’s like that for a lot of demigods, so you’re not alone...but most get more time to adjust.  I don’t know why you weren’t claimed, I mean, the other children of Hades have been, so I’m not sure why Hades took longer to get to you, but you’ll adjust eventually.”

“Is it worth it to you?” Nathan asked quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, I mean...ignorance is bliss, man.  Maybe I’ll feel better going through this half believing I’m dreaming.”

“That gets a lot of demigods killed.”  He nodded towards the woods.  “Come on.  We’re almost there.”

Nathan followed Mason across a little stream and into a wide clearing that was ringed by thick trees.  Very thick, and the undergrowth formed almost a wall that surround the cleared.  “We had the children of Demeter do this,” Mason said, gesturing around the clearing towards the trees and plants.

“They control plants?”

“Among other things.  They’re also very good cooks.  But yeah, they did this so that we might be able to recognize an enemy a little easier.”

“Who’s on our team?”

“Ares, Demeter, Zeus, Hades, Dionysus and the unclaimed demigods and demigods of minor Gods.  On the other team is Apollo, Hephaestus, Athena, Poseidon, Aphrodite and Hermes.”

They seem to have more cabins.”

“In the end, we have more people.  Plus,” he grinned at Nathan.  “We’ve got people like you and Austin.  Children of the Big Three are typically more powerful than the others.”

Nathan brought his eyes over to the flag which had caught his attention as it rippled in the wind.  It stood in the center of camp, a blood red flag with the symbol of an olive tree.  The symbol of Athena.  Which meant that Athena was most likely leading their team.  

Which also meant that Catherine was probably leading the enemy.  That was not good, especially considering Nathan had knocked into her after diving out of the sky and beat her into the ground during training.  He was sure she had some personal vendetta just for him.  A blade with his name written on it.  Or an arrow, rather.  

Nathan and Mason took their places where they were supposed to be, ten feet from the flag and they both raised their blades.  He wondered for a moment why they didn’t have ranged weapons, all they would have to do is hold until something in the bramble cracked and then they would be done.  But then he remembered that he couldn’t even shoot in the first place and he chuckled to himself.  There was a lot he couldn’t do, it seemed.  

“How long does it take?”

“How long does what take?”

“Getting used to it.  Getting good.”

“You’re already good.  A summer with us will probably do it for you, you tend to learn fast after being thrown into it.  We just can’t go easy on you, otherwise it will take longer.”

“Great.”

They stood in silence . And for the first time in a very long time, Nathan felt at ease.  Mason was an easy guy to be around.  He seemed very level headed, very calm and caring of other people.  And it seemed like he wasn’t even there when he was quiet, standing stoic and proud, gazing off into the bramble with a focused look.

Sunlights hone down through the branches above which curled over the clearing like the ceiling of a cave, illuminating random spots on the grass.  He dug the tip of his blade into one of the little spots of light and closed his eyes.  Birds.  The scurried of animals.  It was tranquil and peaceful.

That was something Nathan didn’t get very often.  He went right from the chaos of the orphanage to being captured to the academy to camp.  This was nice.

There was a horn, and that horn was followed by the sounds of battle.  War cries, metal ringing against metal, explosions.  Mason didn’t have to say anything, Nathan already knew what was going on.  The game had begun.  

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked and Mason nodded.  

“Sure.  What’s up, Nathan?”

“Were you ever attacked before you came to camp?”

Mason’s body stiffened like he had jabbed him in the side.  “Yeah,” he said shortly.

“How often?”

“...only once.  But that was all it took.”

Nathan frowned.  He wondered what that meant, but he didn’t stray from his train of thought.  “I’m asking because....while I was at the orphanage, we were being cared for by this woman named Mrs. Wilson, I don’t know her first name but that orphanage was full of demigods.  There must have been about twenty of us.  And someone told me that a large group of demigods always attract a bunch of monsters, but...”

“You were never attacked.”

“Well, we were once.  And that’s when Ember and I escaped.  I think Wilson and the others are okay, as soon as we left, the hellhounds followed us.”

Mason smirked.  “Hell hounds.  It’s always hell hounds.”

“Have you run into them a couple times?”

The unclaimed demigod’s eyes darkened, his hand tightening around his blade.  “Yeah.”

There was something in the way that Mason spoke that told Nathan something had happened.  Something bad.  Nathan opened his mouth to speak, when Mason shot his hand out, fingers outspread towards Nathan as if he was going to stop him, staring into the trees.  

Nathan understood what was happening instantly and he jerked his blade out of the ground, pointing it awkwardly towards the woods, eyes darting around the trees.  “What did you hea-”

“Shh,” Mason muttered, reaching into his bag slowly.  He retracted a flask filled with the green fluid sloshing inside.  Nathan thought he was going to drink it, but instead Mason chucked it.  Nathan’s eyes followed the flask and when it touched the ground beside the trees, it exploded, the liquid immediately transforming into ten foot tall green flames which immediately incinerated the trees and plants nearby.  The fire quickly spread, already reaching out three feet.  

The red team then made their attack, all of them shouting and leaping through the flames.  One of them had tripped upon leaping and caught his pants on fire and he shouted in pain and shock, dropping and rolling as he put out the fire.

Catherine herself, Sabrina, Mikhail.  There were two campers that Nathan didn’t recognize and the one rolling around with his pants on fire was naturally Zack.

“Nathan!” Mason shouted and he leaped forward with his sword which connected with Catherine’s and he used his elbow to knock away Mikhail who was trying to club him with a giant hammer that he held in his burly hands.

The other two went at Nathan.  Sabrina seemed to have entirely disappeared.  Nathan glanced back at the flag, but it was still safe.  

A sword flew at his face and Nathan gasped, leaning backwards Matrix style and the sword sliced over his head.  Nathan could even hear the metallic ‘swoosh’ as it grazed by.  He came back, pressing forward and he kneed the guy in the stomach and he gasped, doubling over and Nathan spun round to meet the other guy.  Nathan recognized him, a son of Hermes with elfish features.  He was holding two daggers.

This was different than facing down one blade.  Nathan had to keep his eyes on both weapons as the guy twirled and spun, daggers flashing left and right and Nathan was barely able to parry them.  Again, like when he was fighting Catherine, his mind seemed to be on autopilot, deciding everything his body did before he could even register what was going on.

Nathan saw an opening and he took it.  Using the butt of his blade, he jammed it into the dagger guy’s throat and he gagged, dropping down as he tried to catch his breath.  The other was still groaning on the ground.

A mind splitting pain erupted in Nathan’s head and he shouted in agony, dropping his blade and it clattered to the ground.  Sabrina emerged from the shadows, hand outstretched towards him, a dark look in her eyes.  “I don’t trust you,” she whispered.  She was standing ten feet away, but it sounded like she was saying it right into his ear.  “Let’s find out who you are, Nathaniel Barrow.”

She reached him and Nathan tried to kick her legs out from under her, but she quickly threw a knife which had been hidden beneath her sleeve and it embedded itself into his knee.  Nathan shouted in pain, wrapping his hands around the hilt of the blade, trying to figure out whether he was supposed to pull it out or leave it there when Sabrina placed her fingertips onto his temple.  

Suddenly, he wasn’t there anymore.  He was in a throne room.  It was luxurious, magnificent.  The golden throne stood gleaming in the back, and a long, red rug lead up to it.  There were men and women standing on either side in long, ancient Greek robes.  They were wealthy, or noble, and looking expectantly at Nathan.  Or...whoever Nathan was right now.  He couldn’t see his body, it was like he was this person.  

“You’ll be fine, my Lord.”

Nathan looked over to an old man who stood beside him, wearing a simple white robe, a copper circlet around his neck.  His light blue eyes looked like they were a million years old and he was gazing at the golden throne intensely.  “You must take your father’s place.”  He looked up at Nathan.  “Go.  You will be all right.”

He heard himself take a shuddering breath and slowly walked down the red rug down the aisle.  Every face he passed was expectant and prideful.  They looked up to him.  

He reached the gleaming throne.  His body was shaking with anxiety as he spun around slowly.  He stood there for a long time.  The throne room was massive, holding more than five hundred people.  The sides were open to the world, the walls were just the massive, intricate pillars that held up the ceiling.  Tapestries of kings and gods hung on the walls and fluttered in the light, warm breeze.  

That breeze didn’t help.  He was sweating, his palms wet and quickly, smoothly, he rubbed them across the back of his robe and breathed, slowly sitting down, straightening his clothing and he closed his eyes.  A man appeared.  Stated his name, his coronation, King of Greece.  A crown was placed in his lap and he opened his eyes.  In the gleaming metal of the crown, he could see a face in the reflection.  

He must have been about twenty, with messy black hair, a chiseled chin, a thin, angular face and dark brown eyes, glittering like smooth, black obelisks.  

He looked exactly like Nathan.  

 

Catherine never had a problem while fighting Mason.  She used to.  It was like she was fighting herself, she would get nervous about hurting him, she would hesitate, she would get afraid if she saw him get pissed and lunged at her.  And now, they kept score of how many times they were able to hit each other.  

She and Mikhail pressed Mason back, the guy lunged and ducked and rolled, more evading than fighting, sweat dripping down his tanned skin, his golden eyes knit in concentration as he tried to look for an opening.  He couldn’t find one.  Mikhail and Catherine both knew each other’s combat techniques like the back of their hands, fighting like one person.

Eventually, for some reason, Mikhail fell back, so Catherine pressed the attack.  She grinned as one of her daggers sliced through his arm and Mason grimaced but leaped forward, his sword skimming her side and she gasped, her hand flying to her bleeding side.  A look of alarm crossed his face momentarily, but she nodded.  She didn’t want him to worry, she was fine.  

“Catherine.”

It was Mikhail.  But couldn’t he see she was concentrating right now?  She grimaced, pressing forward and took a couple steps, pressing him back.  His eyes were narrowed in concentration, his blade a whirl as he tried to parry her attacks.  Zack had finally put the fire out and he fired an arrow towards Mason and he ducked, and the blunted projectile buzzed over his heads.  

“Catherine!”

Catherine’s attention was finally drawn from their battle and her heart practically stopped.  Sabrina’s fingers were to Nathan’s temple.  His eyes were rolled into his head and he was on his knees, his body trembling and shaking like he was having a seizure.  

“Sabrina!” she shouted, immediately forgetting about Mason as she raced towards Sabrina.  She didn’t think Sabrina was trying to kill him, but whatever she was doing, it wasn’t good.  “Stop it!”

She barely got within ten feet of them before crackling energy pulsed out from Nathan.  Enough to throw Sabrina, Catherine, Mikhail and everyone else within twenty feet to the ground.  Stars danced in front of her eyes and Catherine gasped for the air that had been knocked out of her and she struggled to sit up, trying to see Nathan.  

He was standing, his face blank and staring off into the distance, but his body was shaking and vibrating.  

“Nathan!”

Rose and Ember were now in the clearing, Ember’s face clearly showing her horror and she went to race towards her friend, but Mikhail snapped his arm out to keep her from going out to Nathan.  Good, Catherine wanted to know what was going on.  

Nathan’s eyes opened.  But they were no longer the dark, cold brown.  They were glowing green.  He opened his mouth and a green mist began to curl out from between his lips, creating a fog over the ground they stood.  The mist began to crawl up Catherine, Ember, Mason, Rose, Mikhail and Zack, ignoring the other two demigods who were standing there, panicked, scared and swords brandished.  

Nathan spoke.  But his words were powerful and ancient, like he was speaking fifty times at once five octaves lower.  His mere voice shook the ground and vibrated between her ears and he gasped, going to her knees.  

_She rises from the holes of the earth,_   
_And to cold shadows she shall birth._   
_In blackness seven heroes will rise,_   
_And the Gods shall meet their demise._   
_The Ancients whisper across the seas,_   
_Primordials whom grasp a twisted key._   
_And when the dark skies do fall,_   
_Will a dying breath be echoes in the hall._

At that last word, Nathan gave a sigh, his eyes rolling into the back of his head.  The green mist was sucked back down his throat and and he began to fall.  Mikhail let Ember go now and she raced to his side, catching him and lowered him down until his head was on her lap, panting like he had jogged for an hour.  

“Nathan?” Ember asked timidly.  He was out cold.  He didn’t respond, his body was still shaking and trembling, sweat dripping down his face.  “What’s wrong with him?  What’s going on?” panic was slipping into her voice as she looked up at Catherine.  

Catherine didn’t say anything.  She was staring at Nathan with a dark look and she brought her eyes up to Sabrina who was standing behind Nathan, an equally knowing look in her eyes.  

“It would appear,” she said, her voice hoarse.  “That our new Oracle has just said our next Great Prophecy.”


	12. The Great Prophecy

Just like the others for a long moment, Mikhail couldn’t move.  His feet were frozen to the ground as the mist began to curl around his legs.  It was a cold mist, like a winter chill.  It was a mist that he recognized.  He watched as it began to wrap around the others, his friends.  Around himself, Catherine, Mason, Zack, Rose, Ember and Nathan.  Seven half bloods.  “ Svyatoye der'mo,” he whispered.  He held Ember tightly, so that she wouldn’t disturb his prophecy, but when he was finished and began to fall, he released her and she launched forward, catching him before he hit the ground.  

The new oracle?  How was that possible, weren’t oracles normally females?  How could this new kid be the new oracle?  He sent a questioning look over at Catherine, but she didn’t catch it.  She was approaching Nathan and she lifted up his eyelid to look at his eyeball.  

Ember smacked away her hand.  “What the hell are you doing?” she growled, holding Nathan tightly against her.

“His eyes were just glowing green, Ember,” Catherine said with a roll of her eyes. “Obviously I want to examine him.”

“How about we get him to the infirmary before we start dissecting him,” Mikhail muttered, and the demigods looked over at him, as if remembering he was there.

“Good idea,” Mason said, and he and Mikhail moved over to the unconscious son of Hades, throwing the boy’s arms over their shoulders.  Nathan gave a small moan, his head bobbing and Mikhail glanced over at Mason with concern.  He could see drops of sweat rolling down Nathan’s forehead, and his body had the slightest tremble.  That prophecy really wiped him out.

He heard Catherine immediately giving out orders.  “Zack,” she turned to the blonde haired guy who was trying to comfort Ember, a hand on her shoulder and he looked up.  “Run to Chiron, tell him what’s happened and to meet us at the Big House.”  She looked over at Rose.  “Could you find some kind of herb or medicine to make his fever go down?”

The two demigods nodded and hurried off to do what they were told.  Catherine then turned a hard eye over to Sabrina.  “And I need to talk to you.”

Mikhail tried to block out what they were saying.  He wasn’t an eavesdropper.  But when Sabrina and Catherine were walking right behind Mason and Mikhail, it was hard to not hear what they were saying.  

“What did you do to him?” Catherine muttered.  Mikhail knew what she was speaking of.  He had been the first one to see it.  Nathan and Sabrina had been fighting.  She had stabbed him in the leg, and then placed her fingertips to his temple.  Then it was like he had gone into a trance.  He knew that whatever Sabrina had been doing was harmful or dangerous.  He began to listen more intently, and he could see Mason doing the same out of the corner of his eye.

“I didn’t  _ do  _ anything,” Sabrina said, a calm tone to her voice.  “I merely took a look inside.”

“That sounds invasive,” Ember muttered, the girl trailing close to Mikhail’s shoulder, keeping close to Nathan.  

“It was very invasive,” Sabrina admitted.

“How are you able to do that?” Catherine asked with a frown, looking over at her.  “What exactly happened?”

“I just felt some of his emotions,” Sabrina said smoothly and with a shrug.  “Just to get a better look at what he was feeling, how he is doing.  I’m sure today has been very stressful.”

“Somehow, what you did triggered that prophecy,” Mikhail said thoughtfully, and everyone silenced themselves, mulling over his words for a moment.  Mikhail’s own thoughts went to what Sabrina had said, about using her powers to read Nathan’s emotions.  That didn’t make sense.  He was around the children of Aphrodite enough to know that when they read people’s emotions, they didn’t have to touch them, they just had to be in the area.  They could feel it like an aura.  Nathan...what she did to him, it was more than that.  And he knew Catherine was thinking the same thing, because she had her critical-thinking face on.  

They were silent as they dragged Nathan through the forest.  The boy would come to, moaning for a second before going unconscious again.  His fever was beginning to spike higher and Mikhail could feel the heat against his skin.  He probably wasn’t doing much to cool Nathan down, being the son of a fire god.

There was some rustling from the brush and they snapped their heads over, a couple demigods going for their blades, but it was just Rose, with a plant clenched in her fist.  Mikhail and Mason slowed down so that Rose could squish the stem in her fist, allowing the goo to slowly gush onto the flesh of Nathan’s forehead.  “It should cool him down a bit,” Rose said quietly, putting a hand on his forehead to feel his temperature.  “Did that make him sick?”

“No, it just weakened him,” Catherine replied, a frown still touching her lips.  “Let’s get moving.  I need to speak to Chiron.”

With that, they quickened their pace, and although they were careful to be gentle with the unconscious boy between them, they had to pull him along a little faster.  They burst through the trees, raising their hands to shield their eyes from the beams of sudden light.  A group of demigods standing nearby immediately took note of what was happening and jumped to help, lifting Nathan’s legs and the group hauled Nathan over towards the Big House.

Chiron opened the door before they reached it and moved out of the way so that they could slide Nathan in.  “Not the infirmary,” Chiron said, and he pointed to a couch and Mikhail and Mason nodded, bringing the boy over and slowly lowered him down onto the sofa, sweat still dripping down his face.  Ember was immediately by his side, kneeling on the floor next to him, her pale hand finding his as she brushed his hair out of his face, watching him with obvious concern.  Zack came into the room panting, he had obviously sprinted to get Chiron, because he looked wiped out.  

“Sabrina,” Chiron said, turning to the dark haired girl that lingered in the corner.  “What happened?”

Mikhial scowled.  Sabrina was practically Chiron’s right hand woman, but he didn’t say anything of it as Sabrina began to recall what had happened.  She seemed to skip touching him and ‘reading his emotions,’ or so she claimed, going from fighting him to Nathan floating in the air with green mist spilling from his mouth.

“An oracle,” Chiron whispered, his eyes going to Nathan.  “It’s rare for a male to be given prophetic powers.”

“Is it even possible?” Catherine asked with a frown.  “Every prophet I have ever heard of was female.”

Chiron shook his head.  “There were males.  In fact, one of the greatest of oracles was a male, Tiresias.”

“But wasn’t Tiresas transformed into a woman for seven years?”

Chiron gave a thin smile.  “He gave prophecies even before then.  Do you remember what the prophecy was?”

Catherine hesitated.  It was clear that she did not want to recite the words, even Mikhail could still hear them echoing between his ears, but she gave a shuddering sigh and repeated Nathan’s haunting words.  “She rises from the holes of the earth, and to cold shadows she shall birth. In blackness seven heroes will rise, and the Gods shall meet their demise. The Ancients whisper across the seas, primordials whom grasp a twisted key. and when the dark skies do fall, will a dying breath be echoes in the hall. ”

There was silence.  A silence that the demigods were too afraid to break, and Chiron was lost in thought, staring at Nathan with brown eyes that were a million miles away.  He knew what the prophecy meant.  Mikhail was sure of it.

“Cold shadows?” Zack tried.  “Sounds a bit like Hades.”

“Hades isn’t a female,” Catherine snapped, and Mason put a calming hand on her shoulder.  She took a small breath, trying to control her temper and continued.  “There aren’t many goddesses that specialize in shadows.  There are some that are associated with it, such as Melinoe, Hecate, Selene, Persephone, but there isn’t necessarily a goddess of shadow.”

“And one more thing,” Mason said, looking up at Chiron.  “While Nathan was giving the prophecy, the green mist...it ignored everyone except me, Catherine, Ember, Mikhail, Zack and Rose...” he trailed off, afraid to go on.  Mikhail felt like his heart had been sucked up into his throat, making it hard to breathe as he looked over at Chiron.  He had hoped that the centaur would tell him that the prophecy had fallen upon seven other poor, unfortunate demigods in the camp.  That he had nothing to do with it and the darkness it entailed.  Those hopeful thoughts were quickly smothered as Chiron gave them a pitying look.

“I must speak with Sabrina,” he said, waving a hand towards the door.  “Leave us.”

Catherine and Ember looked like they were about to throw fits, but the guys grabbed them and lead them outside before they could start a battle over wanting to stay and get answers.  Catherine looked like she was about to burst, her fists were clenched at her sides and her face was red.  Mikhail knew from experience how easily she could blow up and when she did, watch out.  “I can’t believe he has the nerve to kick us out, we are the ones the prophecy is about, they’re probably in there talking about what it means,” she looked over at Ember who was scowling at the grass.  “And you should be with Nathan.”

“Why is this happening?” she muttered, leaning against one of the posts on the Big House deck and Mikhail frowned, looking at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Nathan and I...we don’t belong here and now we’re suddenly a part of your Great Prophecy?  It’s just...” she gave a soft breath.  “It’s moving too fast for me.”

Gods, Mikhail wanted to hug her.  He didn’t have to be a son of Aphrodite to feel the uncertainty and fear coming from the daughter of Hecate.  Unfortunately, due to his size, his muscle, every time he tried to hug someone they got defensive, or stiffened up, so he kept to himself.  

“What’s going on?” came a voice and they looked over to see Elijah approaching them, a suspicious look on his face.

“Nothing to do with you, Creepy Crawley,” Zack said, earning a disapproving glare from Ember.  

“Don’t be a jerk,” she growled, but it was too late.  

Elijah already snorted, muttered, “typical.  Sorry for asking,” and left, his hands shoved into his pockets and his head lowered towards the ground as he walked away from them.

“What’s your guys’ problem?” Ember asked, looking at Catherine and Zack.  They were the two that seemed to be the rudest to each other.  Mikhail personally had nothing against the guy.  They didn’t get along for a number of reasons.  They were complete opposites.  Mikhail was huge, Elijah was scrawny.  Mikhail had power over fire, Elijah had power over ice.  Mikhail was a big teddy bear and Elijah would bite your fingers off if you tried to touch him. 

“Him,” Catherine said simply, folding her arms over her chest.  It was clear that she wasn’t going to be leaving anytime soon, because she sat down on the short steps that led up to the Big House’s Deck, putting her elbows on her knees and hear head in her hands.  Everyone laid out on the deck, Zack and Rose taking the two rocking chairs, Mason took a seat next to Catherine and Ember paced impatiently on the deck, her fingers twirling a slim dagger in her fingers.

Mikhail walked past Catherine and Mason, sitting down in the soft grass beside the deck and began to clutch the blades of grass in his fist, leaning back.  The two demigods had obviously spilled what had happened, because the longer they sat there, the more Mikhail began to notice the looks that people gave them, the points, the whispers.  Nathan was getting a lot of attention.  First, that impressive display while he fought Catherine.  And now, he was an Oracle, the only Oracle in Camp Half-Blood.  Even his father, Hades, brought on a lot of notice.  

“What do you think Sabrina did to him?” he asked, looking over at Catherine.  

Catherine frowned, bringing her grey eyes down to the grass.  “I don’t know,” she admitted.  “That excuse of reading his emotions was bull shit.  Nathan wouldn’t have been having a seizure if she was just using empathy on him.”  She chewed on the inside of her lip thoughtfully.  “But she didn’t hurt him, which is good.  But somehow, it did trigger that prophecy.”

“Who is he, Ember?” Mason asked, looking over his shoulder at Ember who stopped pacing to bring her attention to the three.  “What?” she asked, having obviously been not listening.

“Nathan.  Who is he?  I mean, he’s a really special guy.  Why is he like this?”

Ember gave a helpless shrug.  “I’ve been trying to figure that out for myself.  Nathan and I both lived in an orphanage for as long as I can remember, he was seven when he was brought in.  I was already there.  And unless he was a genius, prophetic swordsman at the age of sicks and somehow forgot, I don’t know how he could have gotten all of these skills, he could barely even flip a knife while we lived at the orphanage.”

Catherine growled in frustration.  “I need to figure out what he is.”

“We shouldn’t bother him about it for a while,” Rose piped up, her voice quiet.  “He is probably going to be really stressed out with all of these campers chasing after him for quests and being one of the seven.”  The demigods cringed.  “We should support him until he’s ready to accept it.”

The door opened and the six looked up, some standing cautiously as Chiron made his way out onto the porch.  Sabrina brushed past him, graceful as ever and down the steps, walking towards her own cabin.  Catherine looked ready to chase after her and get some answers, but Mason held her back.

“So...?” Mason asked, looking up at Chiron, whose face was pained.

“You are the seven demigods from the prophecy, Nathan included,” Chiron confirmed.

“So what does that mean?” Zack asked, excitement slipping into his voice despite himself.  “Are we going on a quest?”

Chiron shook his head.  “No.  There’s nothing to do for now.  The last Great Prophecy took seventy years to unfold.  We cannot act until we have more information.  We don’t even know who it is we are fighting, yet.”

“So what should we do?” Zack repeated.

“Absolutely nothing.  Continue doing what you’ve always done, keep this to yourself and try to comfort Nathan when he awakens.”

“How long will that be?” Ember asked anxiously. 

“It could be a couple days,” Chiron admitted.  “The Great Prophecy was very tiring for Nathan, his body is very weak.”

“In the meantime, we should try and remove any rumors being spread about him,” Catherine said, looking at the others.  “Those two that saw what had happened?  Bribe them, threaten them, whatever.  Anything so that the camp won’t be swarming Nathan when he wakes up.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” he looked off towards the pavilion where the demigods were beginning to flock and he gave a soft sigh.  “Go and eat.  Keep this prophecy to yourself.”

Mikhail picked himself up, stretching out after having sat there for a while and watched as Catherine quickly caught up with Chiron before he could disappear back into the big house, looking determined and majorly pissed off.  “What were you and Sabrina talking about in there?” she demanded, and Chiron turned his tired eyes towards the daughter of Athena.

“The dawn of a new age.”


	13. A Cold Loner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picutre is of Elijah and belongs to the Blood of Hecate. It was commissioned for this story. Do not use.

 

With the help of the six demigods and Catherine’s unbeatable logic, they were slowly able to convince the camp that Nathan was not an oracle, that the two demigods had just been seeing things, that there was nothing special about Nathan other than his supernatural sword fighting abilities.  The campers were not fully convinced.  The two had given very detailed reports on how green mist spilled between Nathan’s lips, how the others there were the demigods from the prophecy.  They still came up to Catherine, Ember, Mikhail and the others to ask how Nathan was doing, with a suspicious light in their eyes.  But the demigods had already done what they could to convince them that it had never happened.  And now all they had to do was wait for Nathan to wake up.

        That was the hardest part, for Ember at least.  Her best friend and near brother was unconscious in the Big House, slowly recovering from his fever.  Ember hadn’t been able to relax since he had given his prophecy.  She popped in to check on him once every couple hours.  At night, she would slip out of her cabin and into the Big House, creeping over to the couch where he lay with one hand hanging off the side of the sofa, eyes closed and she would sit beside him, gripping his fingers tightly.

        I went on like that for about two days.  And it was on the second day that she got caught.  Her back up against the couch, she had his hand over her shoulder, her fingers playing with his, stroking her thumb up and down the length of his index finger when she heard a voice from behind her.

        “You should go back to bed, Ember.  He isn’t going anywhere.”

        Ember jumped, spinning around and Chiron wheeled himself silently into the room, his face hidden in the shadows of the farm house.

        “Chiron!” Ember stuttered, letting go of Nathan’s hand as she stumbled up, brushing herself up.  “I’m sorry, I was just-”

        Chiron waved a hand, a soft smile on his face.  “I know, child.”  He stepped beside her and Nathan, looking down at the unconscious boy.  He placed a hand on Nathan’s forehead and nodded.  “He’s healing, Ember,” he said, looking back at her.  “He will be up in a few days.”

        “Why did this happen?” Ember asked, relaxing a little as she went back onto her knees beside Nathan, finding his hand again.  “Why is he so weak?  I still don’t understand what went on in there…” Ember gave a sigh, closing her eyes.

        Chiron didn’t respond for a minute, the room silent except for the purring of the stuffed jaguar head mounted on the wall.  “Nathan is an oracle,” Chiron said finally.  “Normally, they are females, but there is the occasional male soothsayer.  Nathan foretold the Great Prophecy…a foreshadow of an event that will decide the fate of this world.  Nathan…he has never told a prophecy before.”  Chiron’s eyes darkened.  “And from the sound of that prophecy, what is to come is not pleasant.  It took a lot of strength to tell it.”

        Ember hesitated.  “Am I really one of the seven he spoke of?” she asked quietly, looking up at Chiron.

        He nodded.  “Yes.  Along with your friend Nathan, Catherine, Mason, Mikhail, Rose and Zack.”

        Ember wrinkled her nose.  “Zack?  Really?”

        Chiron gave a laugh.  “The boy has more to him than he appears.  All of you do.”  He brought his eyes up to the clock that ticked on the wall.  “It’s past midnight,” he put a hand on her shoulder, gently pulling her up.  “It’s time for you to go to bed.”

        He guided her to the door of the Big House and after wishing her a goodnight, closed it behind her.  Ember wanted to have some more time with Nathan, but she knew that if she tried to slip back inside, she would get caught.  And Chiron might not be so kind the second time he found her out of bed.  She sighed, sliding her hands into her pockets as she made her way across the grass towards the Hermes cabin.

        Right at the door, she heard a voice.  She frowned, placing her ear against the wood and listened.  Elijah.  He was whispering.

        “-is one of them.  It was around her as well…no, I didn’t see it.  But the campers are saying practically the same thing with only a little variation.”

        Ember opened the door a tad so that she could see.  She was afraid for a moment that the light of the moon shining into the cabin through the slit would give her away, but Elijah was entirely focused on the thing in his lap.  Again, he was speaking into the black bowl.  Ember frowned, raising up on her tiptoes so she could see better.  This time, she could see a face in the swirling, murky waters in the bowl.  Barely.  She could tell that it was at least a man.

        “I can do that,” Elijah was saying, nodding his head.  “I would need a distraction though, the whole camp would be on my ass if I-” he finally spotted the beam of light and his head snapped up to Ember.  He moved so quickly the bowl fell from his lap, splashing across the cabin floor and he swore, jumping up and turned to glare at Ember.

        Shit, what should she do?  Automatically she back pedaled as he hopped over the sleeping campers on the floor, stepping outside as he slammed the door behind him.

        “What the hell are you doing?” he hissed.  He honestly wasn’t very intimidating, he was a couple inches shorter than Ember.  The scariest thing about him were his eyes.  Frosty grey, angry and cold.

        “What the hell are _you_ doing?” Ember retorted quickly, jabbing his chest with her finger.  “Who were you talking to in there?”

        “Why do you care?”

        “It was pretty suspicious.”

        Elijah gave a dark chuckle.  “Well of course.  Everything I do is suspicious and evil.  All right, you caught me,” he raised his hands in a surrendering gesture.  “I was consulting my Nazi friends over at the KKK secret meeting where we discuss our Satanist rituals that we plan on performing on small children.”  Sarcasm dripped from his words like ice.

        “You know, I wouldn’t really be surprised if that were the truth.  But I don’t think it is.”

        “Well, it doesn’t have anything to do with you.  So back off.”  He didn’t return to his cabin.  He shoved his hands into the pockets of his light grey jacket, the white, fur hood hanging down behind his head as he made his way towards the lake.

        Ember watched him until he sat down on the docks and she sighed, shaking her head and walked into the cabin, closing the door behind her.  There was something up with that Elijah kid…something about him that made her want to learn more about him.

        She was always attracted to the dark, mysterious kind.

        When she woke up, Elijah still hadn’t come to bed.  His sleeping bag was ruffled up and messy, but it didn’t look like he had returned.  The first thing Ember felt was worry as she picked herself up.  Did the harpies catch him?

        It was still early in the morning.  The others were still asleep.  Mason’s snoring felt like it was shaking the entire cabin.  She stepped over their sleeping figures, reaching the door and opened it, squinting as she raised a hand to shield her eyes from the light of dawn.

        Elijah was no longer on the dock. Instead, he was on the lake.  Ember’s eyes widened, taking a few steps forward and peered at the lake.  It was completely frozen over.

        It didn’t look like he was wearing ice skates.  It appeared he didn’t need them.  He was able to easily glide over the ice, his hands in his pockets as he spun and weaved across the smooth surface, blizzard winds following him like he wore a transparent winter cape.  

        He pulled one of his hands out of his pockets and waving his arm in an arch over his head, caused a small twister of ice to spiral into the air before exploding into snow which sprinkled down onto his figure.

        He glided a few more paces before twisting his body to the right, and then he was spinning.  Faster and faster, a cyclone of snow beginning to gather around him, both of his hands now out in front of him as ice began to crawl along his fingers.  The air was growing colder and colder frost beginning to form along the edges of the branches.  This kid was going to put the camp through a winter if he didn’t cool down…or warm up?

        “Let it goo, let it goo!” Ember called out, bursting into song, shouting across the lake to get his attention.  “Can’t hold it back anymore!”

        It caught his attention all right.  His head jerked over towards hers and he shouted as he lost his balance, his legs a whirl as he struggled to keep himself upright but ended up falling flat on his face, his chin biting into the ice as he slid a few feet.  Ember cringed, making her way towards the lake in her bare feet, ignoring the frosty grass which poked at the bottom of her toes.  The ice on the lake was so cold that it burned, but she pushed the pain aside as she scooted over towards Elijah, who was pushing himself up, rubbing at his bleeding chin.

        “What was that for?” Elijah muttered, turning over to scowl at her as she reached him.

        “Sorry,” Ember apologized, putting out a hand to help him up.  “But you were about to freeze the camp over.”

        Elijah swatted her hand away and stood up, brushing himself off and began to notice the damage he was starting to do.  “Seems like a pretty nice make-over,” he muttered.  “Dionysus never lets any snow get in so his stupid strawberry patch won’t die.”

        “Dionysus?”

        “Yeah, you know, God of wine, insanity-”

        “I know who Dionysus is,” Ember said with an impatient wave of her hand.  “But what does he have to do with Camp Half-Blood?”

        “He used to be the Camp Director.  But he had to take off.  The Olympians are getting nervous about something.”

        So Dionysus used to be their Camp Director.  Ember really shouldn’t be surprised by anything anymore, but she was.  “Are you okay?” she asked hesitantly.

        His chin was raw.  At her stupid question, he gave her a cold look and tore off a piece of his sleeve, freezing it over to make a little ice pack and he pressed it against this chin.  “Yeah,” he said darkly.  “I’m fine.”

        “You know, that was pretty cool,” Ember said, trying to break the ice between them.

        “What?” Elijah muttered.

        “The ice skating.  I couldn’t skate if my life depended on it.”  To demonstrate, she attempted to spin in a simple circle.  She only managed to cut up her feet a bit from the ice beneath her and she cringed, stumbling a little and gave him an awkward smile.  “You’re really good at it.  The snow thing would have been cool too if you didn’t almost freeze over the entire camp.”

        “Of course I’m good at it.  My father is the God of Ice, what did you expect?”

        Very modest, this one.  Ember let out her breath.  She had to be patient with him.  If she was going to learn more about this boy, she couldn’t be snapping at him.  “Well, Hecate can do a bit of everything from what I’ve gathered…but I still can’t ice skate.”

        “It’s probably pretty hard if you’re not wearing ice skates.”  At this point, Elijah was even rolling his eyes.  He turned around to walk away and Ember bristled.  This guy was such an ass.  

        “Hold up, Frosty,” she growled, grabbing his shoulder and spinning him around.  He didn’t even retaliate.  He was just stunned that she actually touched him.  And man, was he cold.  She waved her hand like she had gotten a burn, but the scowl was still on her face.  “Why are you so alienated from everyone?  Why don’t you want to talk to anyone?  Do you _like_ being an antisocial little creep?”

        “Sticks and stones may break my bones,” he said with a yawn.  “But words may never hurt me.”

        Ember’s lips drew a flat line.  “Are you kidding me?”

        “Look, Ember,” Elijah said with another roll of his grey eyes.  “What do you want from me?  If you’re looking to make a friend or something, you’re talking to the wrong person.  I don’t to have anything to do with you, or anyone else in this camp.  Got it?  Okay, cool.”  He didn’t even give her a chance to respond.  He turned around, ice following his footsteps as he started towards his cabin.  Probably to hide away, like he always does.  She had to get one more word in before he disappeared.

        “I know it wasn’t your fault,” She said quickly and he stopped.  She couldn’t see his face, but she continued.  “I know you didn’t murder that boy…you didn’t have a choice.”

        Elijah turned around slowly, his eyes like ice.  “Who told you that?”

        Ember shuffled her feet.  She didn’t want to get Mason into trouble with this guy.  “Nobody.”

        Elijah turned back and walked over towards her.  The closer he got, the colder Ember felt and she rubbed her forearms which were icy by the time Elijah reached her.  A cold wind billowed around them, his eyes hard and cold.  “Don’t talk to me, Ember.  Don’t come near me.  We’re done here.”  And Elijah left her at that, turning on her coldly while her feet sank into the icy lake, hands still gripped tightly around her forearms.  

 


	14. A Starlit Horizon

The air was so still, so thin that Nathan felt like choking as he took a breath of air.  He couldn’t see anything, he was completely surrounded in darkness.  A breathing, living darkness, and he could feel it curling around his body like a mist, a hiss in his ear and a coldness sliding down his spine.  He shuddered, drawing his blade and the celestial bronze glowed with a golden light, illuminating the area.  He was in a tunnel, the mist thick and cold.  He could feel it brushing up against his arms and he waved it away, taking a step from it.  The mist writhed and then settled for a bit before it began to creep towards him, jumping and leaping.  

Hurriedly, Nathan began to walk down the tunnel, the echos of his steps amplified until he could hear it reverberating between his ears, pounding in his head.  An icy cold touched his shoulder and he gasped, drawing a hand to his skin where tendrils of darkness were beginning to rush across the flesh of his shoulder.  Darkness...this wasn’t the kind that he was used to.  He normally felt completely at ease in the dark, in blackness.  But this...this was an evil darkness.  He could feel it every time he took a breath, taste it every time his tongue touched the air.  

The tunnel opened up to stars.  They glittered and shimmered in a sea of blackness, which expanded to the horizon, in every direction.  To the sides, beneath him, above him.  It was like the tunnel had opened up to space.  The silence had evaporated away to the sounds of night.  Only, they weren’t coming from the vastness, but from his head,  The chirping of crickets, the cracks of a fireplace.

The shadows thickened in front of the son of Hades until a pathway ran out into the blackness.  And a voice in his head.  He couldn’t understand it, it was a near serpentine language that hissed in his ear and made his hair stand on end.  But it was beckoning him forward.  

He hesitated, and took a step forward onto the pathway.  As soon as his foot came down, shadow exploded around his leg, almost like a spark and it was gone.  He took another step, and the darkness sprung up again.  He shivered and looked ahead.  The path seemed to stop a ways out.  He took a breath and continued forward, each step making him feel more queasy, more fluttery, more light headed.  The darkness gathered around him until it was a swarm, pressing in on him, squeezing him.  As he stepped out further into the darkness, the song of night began to change.  The chirping turned into the howls of wolves, the crackles of the fire turned into a deep hissing in his ear that he could feel shaking in his lungs.  

He came to the edge and with his feet firmly on the pathway, leaned over the side and peered down.  It was absolute blackness.  The stars were by now gone, the sounds had vanished.  It was just darkness, stillness and silence.

Silence, except for the hissing, which was now so loud he could feel it vibrating the pathway he stood on.  He clenched his jaw, turning around to go back, but the tunnel, the pathway, was all gone.  He was trapped in darkness.

Then the hissing went away.  The light from his sword vanished, but he could still feel it gripped in his fingers.  Silence, stillness, darkness.  

_ Nathaniel Barrow. _

Nathan jumped, holding his sword out in front of him.  “Glow, glow, glow,” he whispered under his breath.  He felt like he could drown in the darkness.  And the voice...it was so ancient, so evil, he could feel it pounding in his ears.  A guttural serpentine voice, like it was coming from the bottom of a python’s throat.  

“Where are you!” Nathan shouted, panic beginning to settle in.

_ My little hero.   _ A cackle that shook the stars which were beginning to reform.  Blood red stars which twinkled with a dark light.  

“What do you want?” his voice was a whisper.  He didn’t have to shout, the voice was in his head.

The voice laughed, and a searing pain exploded in Nathan’s head.  He shouted, going to his knees, his blade falling from his grasp and it fell into the void.  It didn’t matter, nothing he did could hurt this creature.  

_ Everything.  I want everything, Son of Hades.  The space between spaces, the darkness of the earth, the blackness of the abyss.  I want the world...  _ The voice paused, as if thinking.  Hesitatingly, Nathan moved his hands from his head.   _ And the girl shall be my instrument. _

The pain came again, amplified tenfold.  His skull was splitting in two, shadows exploding around him, surrounding him, drowning him, enfolding in on him.  They completely absorbed him, and there was total blackness.  

 

Nathan woke with a gasp, shooting up as sweat dripped down his face in fat droplets that splattered on the white blanket draped over him.  His head was still pounding, and his heart was fluttering in his chest so quickly he thought it might stop.  He was still gasping, his breath coming in short pants as he brought his hand to his temples, trying to massage away the pain.  

What the hell was that?  He glanced over at his shoulder.  The darkness that had slipped into his veins was now gone.  But he did look paler than normal.  He glanced around.  The Big House?  How long had he been there?  And...what had happened.  His memory was hazy, but he thought he could recall...

“Glad you’re up.”  

Nathan glanced around at Catherine who leaned against the doorframe that lead into the Big House kitchen.  Her face was half shadowed in darkness, and the sight made his stomach churn.  She had her bow slung over her shoulder and she stepped forward, watching him carefully.

“Are you okay?” she asked, but he doubted she really cared about him or his health.  No, what she really wanted was answers.

“If you want me to tell you what happened, I can’t.”  She pursed her lips and went to talk.  He put up a hand to silence her.  “I wouldn’t be able to tell you even if I wanted to.  I don’t even remember how I got here.”

“So you don’t remember the prophecy?”

“Prophecy?”

Catherine frowned.  She stepped forward and knelt down beside Nathan so that her eyes could meet his.  “She rises from the holes of the earth, and to cold shadows she shall birth.”  It only took that first line, and Nathan knew what she was talking about.  “In blackness, seven heroes will rise, and the Gods shall meet their demise.”

“The Ancients whisper across the seas,” Nathan whispered.  “Primordials whom grasp a twisted key.  And when the dark skies do fall, will a dying breath be echoes in the hall.”  He shook his head, lifting a hand to his head.  “Woah.”

Catherine nodded.  “That’s it...weird, you remember the prophecy, but you don’t remember how it happened...”

“Then tell me,” Nathan pressed, swinging his legs over the side of the couch, resting his elbows on his knees.  “Tell me what happened.”

By the time Catherine finished explaining to him, Nathan had his head in his hands, a small tremble in his body as he struggled to process it.  “Is this dangerous?” he asked weakly, looking up at her.  “Being a prophet or an oracle or whatever?  Can I get hurt from it?”

“Well, it has been known to drive some people crazy.  But I don’t think that will happen to you.”

“Well that’s good to know,” Nathan muttered, sarcasm dripped from his words.  He went to stand up and he instantly felt dizzy, taking a deep breath and his hand went up to his head as pain spiked through his brain.  

Catherine frowned.  “Are you all right?”

“Just dizzy.”  He waited a moment and slowly stood up, stumbling a little and Catherine stepped forward to keep him upright, but at the glare he gave her, she kept her distance.  

He heard a good amount of chatting from outside and he peered past the blinds outside.  He could see the light of a fire and could hear singing, talking and laughing.  “What’s going on out there?” he asked, gesturing outside and Catherine followed his gaze.  

“Campfire....we do this every night.  I suppose you were never able to experience it.  You were unconscious the only two nights you were here.”

“You know it’s funny,” Nathan said with a dark chuckle, walking over to the window where he leaned against the frame, his body outlined by the firelight.  “I’ve never been unconscious in my life, save when I got kidnapped.  The second I come to the one place that will supposedly protect me, I get knocked out twice.”

“Those were under circumstances you couldn’t control.  You fell out of a plane and you were overtaken by a prophetic force.  That had nothing to do with the camp.”

“Whatever.  So can I go now or what?”

Catherine hesitated.  “Chiron will probably want to speak with you.  He’s been wanting to know what you remember.”

“Look, I already told you what I remember.  Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to bed.  Later, Catherine.”  He ignored her as she ordered for him to come back, shoving through the doors and stepping into the camp.  The fire was crackling as it blazed high into the air, ten feet tall and glowing a pleasant orange, flickering in the night breeze.  All of the campers were crowded around it, singing songs and laughing, talking.  

Hopefully he would just be able to scoot around them and they wouldn’t notice.  Nathan wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone.  But as soon as he took a couple steps away from the Big House, one of the campers, from the Apollo cabin, he was pretty sure, pointed in his direction.  “There he is!  It’s Nathan!”

He froze like a deer in headlights.

“Nathan!” He watched as Ember jumped up from a group and raced over to him, the crowd growing silent as she wrapped her thin arms around him, hugging him tightly.  His body was stiff and rigid, not being able to do anything but watch the couple hundred or so campers who had their eyes on him.  Eventually, Ember began to sense his discomfort because she quickly pulled away.  

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Nathan muttered, still well aware of the campers staring at them.  “Can we go?”

“No, sit by me.”  Sometimes Ember was clueless.  She grasped his hand and he felt his cheeks heat up with anger as she pulled him towards the group.  Sweat dripped down his forehead as he walked through the crowd, keeping his eyes ahead, his jaw set.  When he sat down, the campers slowly broke out into conversation, but it was hushed, hands placed between mouths in pair, whispers floating around the air.  He could hear almost every single one of them.

_ “Prophecy?” _

_ “Freak.” _

_ “Danger?” _

The words came up more than once and he felt himself shrink back, trying to disappear as the words began to float around in his brain.  He saw Ember cringe out of the corner of his eyes and she leaned over, examining him and whispered, “Nathan, are you okay?  Really.”

“I’m fine,” Nathan repeated, digging his fingers into his pants out of anger and frustration.  Why did she have to keep asking that stupid question?  Of course he wasn't fine.  He was confused, angry, even a little scared under the eyes that seemed like they wanted to pick him apart for answers.     

He saw a shadow move beside him and he looked over to see Mason.  The guy didn’t say anything.  The pitying look was enough and he sat down beside Nathan, his hands between his knees as he sat on a log, gazing at the fire.  A couple campers started up their whispers from beside them and Mason sent them a harsh look and they quieted quickly, blushing under his glare and began to talk about the Capture the Flag game, about how some kid named Harry had broken his leg after a Demeter camper tangled it in vines.  

The fire cracked and Mason jumped, gazing at the fire warily. Odd.  Mason was afraid of fire?  The golden eyed boy shuffled nervously and Nathan sighed.  “You don’t have to be here,” he said, and Mason looked over, surprise momentarily flashing across his face.

“I want to be,” Mason said.

“Why the hell do you want to sit next to me?”  Nathan hadn’t meant to say it so angrily.  He was very frustrated with the campers, even at Mason, who was doing nothing to aggravate him.

It didn’t seem to bother Mason.  He shrugged.  “I don’t know.  You’re upset, and these campers can’t seem to keep their eyes to themselves.  I figured you might want some company that isn’t trying to drown you.”

The way Mason worded that sentence was exactly how Nathan felt.  It was like he was suffocating.  The eyes were watching him and pointing, whispers directed in his direction.  

“I’ll be right back,” Mason said, and he stood up.  Nathan watched as he picked his way across the camp towards Zack, who was snuggling with Sabrina by the fire, planting a large kiss on her cheek and laughing at the expression he gave her.  Nathan couldn’t hear Mason over the other campers, but he could see that he was suggesting something, or asking a question.  Zack nodded and the two shook hands, Mason returning to his seat with his hands behind his neck, giving a stretch.

Nathan was about to ask what that was about when Zack jumped up, whistling and the Apollo campers dutifully began to flock to his position, looking up at him curiously.  “Come on, this is so lame,” Zack said with a grin.  “We’re at a campfire and no one is singing?”  The Apollo campers grinned at each other, taking up their instruments and their positions.  “What do you guys think?”  

“Achilles’ Last Stand!”

Zack snapped a finger in the girl’s direction.  “Good choice!”  He took up a lyre, leaning against a girl who held a violin, much to Sabrina’s distaste and he began to sing. _“It was an April morning when they told us we should go , as I turn to you, you smiled at me.  How could we say no?”_  At the last line, he gave Sabrina wink and every girl in his line of sight to and from Sabrina swooned, giggling as if he had winked at them personally.  Nathan saw Catherine roll her eyes from beside Mikhail as she joined him by the fire. _“With all the fun to have, to live the dreams we always had.  Oh, the songs to sing, when we at last return again.”_

“I feel like I’m at church,” Nathan muttered to Ember who gave him a grin.  “Do they only sing about the Gods here?”

“Nah,” Mason said with a shake of his head.  

“Last night it was One Direction, at the adamence of the most of the Athena campers.”  Ember shrugged.  “Naturally, I sang along but with the parodies.”

By now, the other campers were singing along.  Mason paled as the flames of the fire began to grow taller and taller, illuminating the faces of the campers as excitement began to rise among them.  It came to a point where the guy looked like he was about to puke and he took a breath, quickly standing up and backed away until he was five feet away from the flames, folding his arms over his chest as he gazed at the fire, his face flushed and pale at the same time.

_ “Wandering and wandering, what place to rest the search.  The mighty arms of Atlas, hold the heavens from the Earth!” _

Nathan gasped as he felt a pain in his head.  He lifted a hand to his temple and rubbed it harshly, closing his eyes and he felt a hand on his shoulder.  “Nathan?” Ember’s voice.  “Are you okay?” She was worried.  He opened his eyes and could now see the green mist beginning to curl around his feet, crawling up his legs.  The other campers had not yet seen.

He quickly stood up, which drew the attention of several curious campers.  He had nearly knocked Nathan over as he back pedaled away from the fire.  “Nathan, what’s going on?” Mason asked, but Nathan was already gone, trekking into the darkness.  The mist had now thickened, he could feel it brushing up coldly against his legs, alarmingly familiar to what he felt in his dream.  

“Get away,” he whispered, kicking his leg out as if it might make the mist disappear.  It didn’t.  It continued to crawl its way towards him.  He began to panic, backing up until his back hit a tree and he started to try and brush it off.  The campfire was always away, and he could see Mason and Ember talking.  They hadn’t noticed what was going on yet.  

The mist had reached his jaw, it was trying to get to his mouth.  He turned his head away, putting his hand to his mouth and he began to feel it slipping through his fingers.  What the hell was happening?!”

“Nathan.” He whirled around, his vision blurred by tears of fear.  Chiron stood in the shadows, watching him calmly.  “Don’t try to stop it.  Let the vision come.”

Nathan didn’t want to.  The mist, the visions, it was all unnatural.  But he let it come.  The mist flooded into his mouth, into his body and suddenly he was gone.  He was in a place that was dark, and cold, like a massive cavern.  It was like he was on the side of a volcano, the ground was hot and hard, burning his toes if he stayed in one place for too long and he hopped from side to side.  Fences with barbed wire.  People being tortured.   He could hear screams, the air was tinted with the metallic taste of blood.  It was a nightmare.  And yet, it was oddly familiar.

He heard a moan from his side and he whirled around.  There was a wall made of black obsidian that towered ten feet tall.  It looked unbreakable.  And chained to it was a man.  He wore a nice, button down shirt that was stained with a golden liquid and dirt.  The gold fluid dripped out of his lips and his eyes were closed, sandy blonde hair falling in his face.  What disturbed Nathan the most was the bronze dagger that was embedded in the man’s heart.  He shouldn’t have been alive, but he was still breathing, shakily, hoarsely like he was trying to breathe around blood.  He suddenly gasped in pain, blue eyes flying open and he writhed in pain as the dagger began to vibrate, his hands, which were chained behind his back, clenching into painful fists.

The vision began to melt, and Nathan then knew who that man was.  And it wasn’t the light that seemed to radiate off his body, if faintly.  It wasn’t his golden blood.  It was the fact that he looked almost exactly like Zack.

He gasped as he came out of his vision, falling to his knees, the mist gone, having been sucked down his throat like he had inhaled it.  He shuddered and Chiron stepped forward, putting a hand on Nathan’s shoulder.  “Nathan.”  As Nathan lifted up his head, the fear and horror in his eyes, Chiron knew immediately that something had happened.  “What’s wrong?  What did you see?”

Nathan took a shaky breath, his body shuddering.  “Apollo has been captured.”

 


	15. The Black Stallion

Chiron had quickly dismissed the campers to their cabins quickly after Nathan described his dream.  The campers could tell something was wrong.  They didn’t have to look at Chiron’s too-calm face to understand that something had happened.  A couple of them tried to stay behind to find out what had happened only to be chased away by aggravated harpies.  In the end, it was only the six prophesied demigods who stood beside a smoldering fire, watching Nathan with concern as he stuck by Chiron’s side, his hands in his pockets and his head down.  

Ember wanted to go to him so badly.  She could tell just by looking at him that something was wrong, but when she moved forward to ask what had happened, Mikhail had grasped the end of her shirt and gave a shake of his head.  It was best to not bother Nathan right now, apparently.  She watched as Chiron pulled Nathan aside to the fireplace and she watched their silhouettes against dying embers of the flames, watched as Chiron put a hand on Nathan’s shoulder, said a few words which Ember couldn’t hear and Nathan gave a weak nod of his head, heading in the direction of his cabin where he slammed the door behind him.

Chiron gave a sigh and clopped over to the other six who stood impatiently, especially Catherine, who was tapping her foot after pacing the length of the campfire about nine times. “Well?” she asked with a frown.  “What’s going on, Chiron?”

Chiron scanned the perimeter, obviously to make sure that the demigods that had lingered behind were gone before turning his attention back to the demigods, his face grim.  “Nathan had another vision,” he said quietly.

“Did he tell another prophecy?” Rose asked worriedly.

“No.”  He turned his gaze over to Zack, his eyes sad and hesitant.  “Your father, Zack.  He’s been captured, and he is in the Underworld.”

Zack looked like he had been punched in the gut, his jaw dropping and Mikhail stood a bit closer to the blonde so that Zack could throw his hand out to his shoulder and not collapse where he stood.  “Captured?” he sputtered, his eyes narrowing.  “How is that even possible?  Apollo is a God, there’s no way he can just be-.”

“Artemis was captured almost seven years ago,” Rose reminded Zack, lacing her hand through his in an attempt to calm him down.  Zack didn’t seem to notice, his eyes were downcast and his mind seemed to be working at a hundred miles an hour. 

“What exactly did Nathan see?” Zack finally asked, glancing over at Nathan’s cabin.  Ember could tell that the guy wanted to break down Nathan’s door and get the answers that he wanted.

“He said he saw Apollo chained to a wall in the Fields of Punishment.  That he was tired, and he had a dagger going through his chest.”

“Wouldn’t he be dead?” Ember asked with a frown.

Zack cringed.  “They’re gods, Ember.  They can have their heads cut off and they won’t die.”  He turned towards Chiron, his face hard.  “But he is dying, isn’t he.”  When Chiron gave a short nod, Zack breathed, lifting his hands away from Ember and Mikhail to rub his face, sitting on the ground.  The other demigods shuffled uneasily.  It was odd to see Zack in such a mood.  

Ember couldn’t blame him.  His father was missing...dying.  She supposed Zack probably didn’t see his father very often, him being a God and all, but it was still probably very difficult to know that your father was trapped in an Underworld unable to escape and dying.  

Finally, Zack gave a long sigh, sliding his hands down into his lap and he looked up at Chiron, his face determined.  “We have to go after him.  The Gods can’t, they’re not allowed to trespass into Hades’ realm, but we’re allowed to.  Let us go on a quest to find him.”  He watched as a pained expression crossed Chiron’s face and he narrowed his eyes.  “What?” he asked cautiously.  

“We can’t go after Apollo yet, Zack...it’s not time.”

Ember watched as Zack bared his teeth and stood up, anger seeming to radiate from the young man.  “When the hell isn’t a good time to rescue a God?!  Chiron my father is dying, he could-”

“And if you go into this not knowing what you’re doing, you will die as well!” Chiron snapped, taking a step forward, his eyes narrowed.  Zack cringed at the centaur’s sharp words and folded back in on himself, but there was a vexed expression that lingered on his face.  Chiron took a breath and turned to the other demigods.  “We can’t do anything until Nathan gives another prophecy, one that specifically relates to Apollo’s capture.  And we don’t know when that will be.”

“Is he like the Oracle where we can just...ask him a question and he’ll give us a prophecy?” Mason asked, cringing at how odd that sounded.  Ember couldn’t help but smile at the idea.  Someone asking Nathan a simple question like where the bathroom was then the guy launching into some dark, mysterious prophecy about how some evil will arise from the contents of a toilet.  

Chiron shook his head.  “No.  It has to just come to him.”

“Well what are we supposed to do until then?” Zack muttered, looking up at Chiron.

“Keep yourselves busy.”  He turned to Rose.  “Nathan hasn’t had an opportunity to explore the camp.  Tomorrow, would you mind taking him through the camp and what we can offer?  It will be a way to keep him distracted.  I’m sure this prophecy has him quite distressed.”  He looked over at Zack.  “We will return your father to you, Zackery.  During times like these, the world needs beings like Apollo.  We need light.  Now go to bed.”

 

From the moment that Nathan slammed the door to his cabin, he knew that he wouldn’t be getting much sleep.  There was too much he could think about, too much that he could worry about.  Ember and his recurring dream.  The prophecy.  The vision he had in the forest.  This had all happened in what, a matter of less than a week?  A couple days?  

Nathan tried to sleep.  He wanted to escape this living hell that he’s found himself in, even if that means just in a dream.  But he couldn’t.  He rolled over on all sides, stared at the ceiling, counted sheep, tried to meditate, but he couldn’t do it.

Eventually he swung his legs over the side of the lone bunk and rubbed his face, looking around his room.  It was pretty much bare.  There was only one other child of Hades, a guy named Nico, but he took off a few years ago and hadn’t been back.  There was his bunk which had been pressed up awkwardly against the wall.  On each corner was a brazier with low burning green flames dancing around in the dark metal.  The harpies had tried to clean it out for him, but they did a sloppy job, cobwebs hanging in the corners and spiders crawling around on the posts of his bed.  He supposed it was somewhat fitting, considering his father.  

And smack dab in the middle of his cabin was the somewhat intimidating statue of his great and glorious father, Hades.  He stood up on a platform made of bones, wearing long elegant robes going down to his ankles.  He had long, straight, pretty greasy looking hair going down to his waist.  He reminded Nathan way too much of some anime character.  Tucked under one arm was a Greek styles Helm and in the other, a scepter topped with a skull. 

Imagine bringing this guy to school for Parent Appreciation Day.

Nathan heaved a sigh, shoving himself off of his bed and lumbered over to his father’s statue, his hands shoved in his pockets.  He felt an eerie nothingness from the statue.  But he supposed if Hades would ever listen, it would be now.  “You know, you could have said something,” Nathan said quietly.  “You could have told me you were my father.”

He hadn’t even been claimed.  He learned from someone telling him…but he supposed Ember was in the same boat.  All the gods must be asses.  “I really needed your help before I found Mrs. Wilson.  I mean, being alone with that hellhound-“ he stopped himself, his eyes closed, chewing on his lip. 

He was wasting his time.  Hades wasn’t listening.  And even if he was, he didn’t care.

Nathan gave another sigh, stepping up onto the platform and he slid down until he was sitting at his father’s feet, his back pressed up against Hades’ legs, looking down at the ground.  What a lovely image.  Black obsidian with the faces of the dead carved in.  So that Nico kid designed the place?  He must have been seriously messed up.

Nathan rubbed his face and closed his eyes.  He had to go to sleep.  He pressed his head against Hades’ robes and took a couple deep breaths and, eventually, sank into a deep sleep.

When he awoke, he wasn’t in his cabin.  He wasn’t in Camp Half-Blood.  He doubted he was even in America.  He was standing in a crowd of people, nobles he guessed, with long, flamboyant robes and bronze and gold jewelry in their hair and around their necks.  They were in what looked like the courtyard of a castle, and they were watching two men and a gaggle of guards, as well as a horse. 

“Your father is going to love the horse, my lord,” said a voice at his side and Nathan looked over at a frail old man with wise blue eyes watching the spectacle before them, wearing light grey robes and he could see the outlines of a book tucked under his robe.  It was the same man that he had seen in his last vision.  “It is one of the finest steeds a King could ask for.”

“A shame he paid three times the price for the beast rather than spending it all on women and wine,” chortled another man from behind Nathan.

“It will be worth it,” Nathan found himself saying, his voice a couple octaves deeper than his own.  “I would die for the horse.”

And it truly was a beautiful horse- and Nathan didn’t even like horses.  Its coat was jet black, standing several hands taller than any horse he had ever seen.  But it was wild.  The guards who were holding the horse had to keep a firm grip on the reins because the stallion kept jerking its head away from the pair, rearing up.  His father however, did not look worried as he approached the other wealthy noble, who gave a low bow.

“My lord, this stallion is the finest in Aeolea, it has been trained by the greatest-“ his attention turned to the horse as it gave a violent snort, wrenching away from the guards and they had to quickly grasp at the reins again before the animal could bolt again.

Nathan’s father snorted and stepped forward.  “Trained?  The stallion appears to have come straight from the wild!”  He went for the horse’s reins and the stallion bit in his direction with a snort.  “It’s so aggressive.”

_Aggressive_?  Nathan thought.   _No.  There’s something else at play here_.

Nathan and the others watched as the guards stilled the horse enough for the king to attempt to mount the horse.  But as soon as he was half way up the ground the horse bucked and flung the king to the ground, which was followed by a collective gasp from the crowd.

“My lord!” a young man raced up to help the old king to his feet and the king glared at the horse. 

“Someone show me they can ride that infernal beast or I will have it taken away and slain!  I did not pay thirteen talents for a horse that cannot be ridden!”

So the guards began to try to mount the stallion, each one resulting a bite, being bucked or being stomped on as the horse reared up and shook its head.  There was something wrong with it.  Nathan could see it.  It wasn’t just that the horse was aggressive…and then he saw it.  He chewed on the inside of his lip, looking up at his father who stood red in the face, glaring at the animal, looking almost eager to have the beast killed.  And Nathan wouldn’t be able to stand seeing such a magnificent animal being slain.

Eventually the men gave up.  The horse cannot be ridden.  As far as they knew, it was a demon sent from the Underworld to destroy and mock them.  And the guards were about to lead it away.  To be killed.

He quickly stood up.  “I can ride the stallion!”  He wasn’t heard, there was too much shouting, too many requests to try to ride the horse and test their luck.  It was wild in the eyes now.  “I will ride the stallion!” he repeated, putting more volume and more force behind his voice, and it finally attracted the attention of the men and they all looked at him curiously. 

“My son…” a woman was at his side, his mother most likely, and she was trying to pull him back down, but he stepped away from her and turned towards his father and his men.

“You’re all spineless,” he said boldly, and a deadly glare from his father was a result.  He ignored the glare and trekked away from the crowd and towards his father, the guards and the stallion, his blade bouncing at his side.  “This stallion is the finest you will ever see.  But you will never ride it.  You are not bold enough.  You are not observant enough.”

“And you think you can ride it, my son?” the king challenged.

“Yes.”

A murmur went up from the crowd.  The king glanced at them and then back at Nathan, and he stepped forward and placed a hand on his son’s shoulder, his eyes hard.  Nathan felt the urge to roll his eyes.  Another lecture.  “These men have been riding before you were born.  Do not presume you can fare better than they can.  Do not embarrass yourself and our family by doing this.”

“Let’s make a deal,” Nathan said, removing his father’s hand from his shoulder.  “If I can mount the horse, I can keep it.  If I get thrown off, I’ll pay for the horse and kill it myself.”

There was laughter from the crowds.  They couldn’t help it.  This skinny little prince was going to ride this untamed beast?  His father’s face grew redder with rage and embarrassment, but he couldn’t deny his son now, in public, when there was already so much commotion.  He gave a stiff nod and moved aside so that Nathan could approach the horse.

He folded his arms across his chest amid the laughter and studied the horse, making sure his theory was correct before he risked his life over a horse.  He had seen something that the others had failed to notice.  The horse was afraid of its own shadow.  And from the way the horse reacted whenever it turned even slightly towards its shadow, it panicked, rearing up and shook its head violently.  Calmly, Nathan took the reins, merely turned it towards the sun so that it could no longer see its shadow and almost immediately, the horse calmed itself, panting and swishing its tail anxiously, pawing at the ground.

The laughter turned to dead silence as Nathan placed his foot in the stirrup and pulled himself up onto the horse’s back.  There was a dense quiet as he turned his head towards his father, who, like all the others, was staring at him with a gaping mouth, as if his jaw might slide off his face.  “Well,” Nathan said calmly, stroking the horse’s neck.  “It would appear the horse is now mine.”

“No!” The king growled and he pointed a finger at the horse.  “Ride it!” he commanded his chief of guard.  The man nodded, giving Nathan a rough shove and he shouted, slipping from the horse’s back and was now on the ground. 

But although the horse was now away from its shadow, it still would not let the guard ride it.  It kept its eyes on Nathan as the guard mounted it, and suddenly it reared up, throwing the guard from its back and he proceeded to land in the grass, dirt and mud splashing up into his face.  There was a harsh laughter from the crowd and the black stallion stepped over to Nathan, affectionately rubbing his leg with its nose.  The laughter quieted down as Nathan cringed, standing up and stroked the horse’s head with his hand, glaring at his father hard.  The king was silent and Nathan looked to the rest of the crowd, a smirk playing at his lips.  They had doubted him.

“The horse is mine!” he shouted at the crowd, his voice echoing powerfully over the courtyard.  “I was the one to tame him, so I am the one to claim him!  And his name shall be-”

 

“Nathan!”

Nathan jerked, his eyes fluttering open as his cabin door opened and light flooded into the dark room.  Like a vampire, he gave a short hiss and turned away, grimacing and shielding his eyes from the light.  “Agh, Rose?” he sputtered, spotting her long, wavy black hair and dark skin.

“Sorry if I woke you up, Nathan,” she said quietly.

“You should be,” Nathan snapped angrily.  If he could have just learned the horse’s name, if it was important enough, he would have been able to figure out who he kept appearing as in his dream.  Which would get him a step closer to learning who he was.

Rose cringed.  “I just...”

“What do you want?” Nathan muttered, interrupting her angrily as he stood up crossly, folding his arms with a frown.  Rose looked like a deer in headlights, frightened and concerned about what she should do.

“I just wanted to show you around a bit is all,” she finally said weakly, biting her lip a little.  “But I’ll let you get back to sleep.”

She turned away disappointedly and almost immediately, Nathan felt a sharp pang of guilt.  Damn, Rose was right.  He was an ass.  He stood up and walked away from his father’s statue, stopping at the doorway.  “Wait, Rose!” he called and the girl stopped quickly, looking over at him questioningly.  “I’ll come with you...I need to be able to find my way around here if this is where I’m going to be staying anyways.”

Rose gave a happy smile.  “Great!  Meet me at the lake then!” and with that she was gone, walking with a new bounce in her step towards the dock and Nathan gave a shake of his head, going to collect his things from his bed.

What had he gotten himself into?

 


	16. One Last Tour

“I am not getting in that boat.”

Nathan’s arms were folded over his chest and he was scowling at the canoe that Rose had dragged over to the shore for him to get into.  She was already in hers, using her paddle to gracefully glide it through the water, propelling herself forward.  She didn’t seem to be using her water manipulation and yet she was moving through the water faster than Nathan ever could.

She stopped paddling and looked over at him.  “I thought you wanted me to show you around the camp?”

“I’ve already seen the lake.”

“Yeah you’ve seen it, but being in it is different.”  She nodded towards the boat.  “Come on, you’ll be fine.  You won’t fall in, I promise.”

Nathan scowled at her and sighed defeatedly, giving a nod and he stepped hesitantly over to the boat.  Cautiously, he put one foot in the canoe and it rocked a little under his weight.  He glanced over at Rose who gave him an encouraging nod.        

Nathan carefully slid into the canoe, shifting his weight so that it wouldn’t capsize and gave Rose, who looked rather smug, a dark glare.  “There,” he muttered, taking the paddle in his hand.  “Happy?”

“It’s not as bad as you make it out be,” Rose promised.  

“Until I get wet.”

Rose laughed and waved her hand, shoving the canoe off from the shore as Nathan was having difficulty getting it into the water and he threw his hand out to the rail, cringing as it glided out into the lake.  

He frowned as he spotted a chunk of ice in the water and he glanced over at Rose questioningly.  “What’s this?” he asked, moving it out of the way with his paddle and Rose looked over at it with a glare.

“Elijah.  He decided it would be a good idea to freeze the entire lake so that he could waste time ice skating.  It took us hours to unthaw it, and he wouldn’t even help us.”

“He seems like a jerk.”  

Rose shrugged.  “I try not to judge.  But when he gets in the way of my water, then it’s my problem and I have to deal with it.”  She paddled around so that she could face Nathan and the two slowly glided towards one another.  “It wouldn’t have been much of an issue if he came to us first,” she admitted.  “The naiads could have prepared, the fish could have hidden but it was just too sudden.  Nerida, Troy and I spent hours unthawing it.”

“And they are...?”

“My siblings.”         

He hesitated.  “How long have you been here?”

“Most of my life,” Rose gave a small shrug.  “My mother isn’t dead, but she sent me here when I was a baby to be taken care of year round.  She didn’t want me to get hurt...sometimes I visit though and-”

Nathan waved a hand, cutting her off.  He didn’t care about her past.  “Who is Nico?” he asked curiously, looking over at her.  

Rose frowned.  “Why do you ask?”

“Because apparently the guy is my brother.  And I want to know a bit more about him.”

Rose hesitated, coming up to Nathan’s side and she reached her hand out, grabbing Nathan’s boat.  Nathan stiffened thinking she was just going to randomly tip him over, but relaxed as she just pulled the boat in closer to her, locking the two together so that they wouldn’t drift away from one another.  “I really shouldn’t be telling you,” she said quietly.  “We don’t typically speak of the demigods in the last Great Prophecy...but I guess you deserve to know.  Nico...he would be what, nineteen now?  Twenty?  He fought in the battle against the Titans, alongside several others.  Annabeth Chase, Clarisse La’Rue, Percy Jackson...” she cringed at that last name.  Percy Jackson, a son of Poseidon.  Rose must have known the guy.   “Percy would have been twenty three.”

“He’s dead now.”

She gave a sad nod.  “Percy, Annabeth and several other of them are gone.  After Percy died, Nico left and we haven’t heard back from him...I mean, Nico always took off.  He was like the scout for Camp Half-Blood but this time it’s different...I don’t think he’s coming back.”

“What was he like?” It was strange.  Asking for information on a brother he never knew existed.  “What does he look like?” he asked on a second thought.

Rose smirked.  “He’s actually a lot like you.  You’re both pale, black hair, brown eyes.  Both kind of jerks.”  Nathan grinned at that.  “But very loyal and brave.  And easily annoyed.”

“Loyal and brave?” Nathan said with a snort.  “How do you know?  The only thing you’ve seen me do is pass out a couple times.”

“I can just tell.”

Nathan didn’t pester her anymore after that.  He didn’t even ask where he went, because he knew she didn’t know.  And speaking of people from the past seemed to be causing the girl distress.  So instead, he leaned back, lifting his face towards the sun as he enjoyed the morning air.  It was a nice day out.  Hot, but there was a cool breeze brushing over the lake, and the sounds of the campers waking up drifted over the water to his ears.  Looking down, he could see little fish swimming by, chasing each other around carelessly, and the naiads on their stone gazing at him curiously.

All right, he had to admit it, being on the water was pretty cool.  Relaxing even.

Until he took an unexpected bath, that is.  The wave crashed up against the side of his boat and he didn’t even stand a chance.  He yelped, flying over the side and splashed into the water.  And unfortunately, he had never swam a day in his life.  He accidentally took a gulp and choked as the water entered his lungs, choking and coughing.  He felt a current from beneath him shove him up towards the surface and he exploded from the water, enough for him to rope his arms around the overturned canoe, gasping and choking as he tried to breathe.

“Troy!” Rose snapped and he looked over to see the black haired, green eyed supposed son of Poseidon.  He looked about fourteen, with an evil smile on his face as he leaned against a tree.  

“He hittin on you, sis?” he called from where he stood, making sure there was plenty of distance between he and his enraged sister.  

“No!” Rose shouted, paddling quickly over to Nathan where she roped her arms around him and pulled him up on top of his overturned canoe where he gagged, trying to spit the rest of the water out of his lungs and she glared at her brother.  “What is your problem, Troy?!”

Troy shrugged, the impish look still plastered on his face as he stepped onto the water.  It seemed to solidify beneath his boots and he strolled over to them.  “I’m bored,” he said, as if that was a good excuse, and as he watched Nathan gagging, trying to breathe, his eyes softened and he knelt down by Nathan.  “Hey, I didn’t know you would start choking, it was just a joke-” he didn’t finish as Nathan grabbed the kid by the scruff of his neck, bringing him down to eye level where he could glare at the kid.  

“Funny joke,” Nathan snarled at Troy, and he yanked the kid downwards so that Troy lost his balance and fell into the water with a splash.  Rose didn’t look concerned.  She floated near Nathan and looked at him apologetically.

“I’m sorry about him,” she muttered, looking down at Troy where the boy had gotten distracted with some fish and was chasing them around happily.  “He’s a trickster,” she laughed nervously, looking up at Nathan hopefully.  The hope faded as she saw the irritated, angry look on the son of Hades’ face and she sighed, nodding towards the shore.

“I suppose you want to get back?”

“Yeah.”

Rose nodded, waving her hand and the boat glided towards the shore.  As soon as Nathan could feel the sand, he stood up, his shorts weighing him down as he sloshed up onto the grass, muttering under his breath as he pulled off his shirt, ringing the water out of the cloth and it splashed onto the green.  Rose averted her gaze, a blush flushing onto her cheeks as she pulled the boats up onto the shore so that they wouldn’t float away.

A piercing whistle attracted their attention and they looked up at Ember and Mikhail who were walking down the hill towards them, Ember sporting a large grin.  “Man Nathan, you’re so freaking skinny,” she said with a laugh, approaching the boy and she poked his arm and he glared at her, looking back at his shirt where he continued to dry it.  “Why are you all wet?”

“I fell in,” Nathan muttered and Ember laughed.  

“Of course you did.  But seriously, you need to start working out.”  She looked up at Mikhail.  “Show him!”

Now it was Mikhail’s turn to blush.  He rubbed the back of his neck and looked down at Ember.  “Why?  It’s awkward.”

“Because they’re beautiful, Mikhail.”  

Mikhail hesitated, before slowly taking of his shirt and Ember giggled while Rose blushed.  Well, Nathan could see what the girls were worked up about.  Years of working at a forge had done justice on Mikhail’s body, with large, ripped, pop up muscles and a chest that was like rock.  But that wasn’t what caught Nathan’s attention.  What he spotted were the long, jagged scars that made their way down his chest and side, like he had been attacked by a lion.  And knowing demigods, well, he very well might have.  Nathan tuned out as Ember began to rant at him about how he should work out so that he could be Hulk Hogan too.  Nathan wasn’t interested.  He didn’t want chicks staring at him for his abs all day.  He hated attention and Mikhail got a lot of it for his body. 

The girls ended up getting into a heated discussion about how you didn’t have to be a Hulk Hogan to be attractive and Nathan wandered over to Mikhail while the guy was putting on his shirt, his face darkened with red.  How embarrassing.  “Where did you get them?” Nathan asked. 

“Get what?” Mikhail asked distractedly, looking back at a gaggle of girls who were giggling at the Russian demigod. 

“The scars.”  He was never one for beating around the bush.

Mikhail cringed, pulling his shirt down.  “A monster.”

Nathan rolled his eyes.  “Obviously.  But what was it?”

Mikhail didn’t answer.  He brought his eyes up to the lake, and after a minute, he opened his mouth, maybe about to tell Nathan, but Rose came over, smiling, along with Ember, and stopped next to Nathan.  “You ready to continue the tour?” she asked.

Nathan looked up at Mikhail and the guy shrugged and Nathan sighed and nodded.  “As long as it has nothing to do with water, fine.”

“So instead of working with water, we’re working with lava.”  Nathan’s face was unamused as he gazed up the fifty foot rock wall.  The wall had a few more installments than a rock wall you would find at any other camp.  That included earthquakes, harpies and lava. 

“You said you wanted to do something more exciting,” Rose said with a shrug.  “I figured a lava rock wall would be satisfactory.”

“Preferably something that won’t kill me,” Nathan muttered. 

“It won’t kill you.”

Nathan raised a brow as there was a small eruption towards the top of the rock wall like that of a volcano and lava seeped down the side.  “Right.”  He sighed and stepped towards the rockwall, and he roped the straps around his body so that he wouldn’t fall to his death if he slipped and glanced upwards, putting his hand over his eyes so that he could see the top and map out his route.  He glanced back at Rose who nodded encouragingly and he breathed, placing his hand on the first rocky stone that jutted out of the wall.

It was hot.  Not hot enough to where it was burning him, but it was warm.  As soon as he pulled himself up those first five feet he knew that the roughness of the rock was going to be more of a problem than the heat.  Lava not included, that was definitely going to be problematic.

He lifted himself up with a grunt, grimacing as his hand slipped, blood blossoming on his palm.  Man, he was bad at this.  The lava spurted shortly after.  He felt a heat on his face and he looked up to see lava creeping down the wall and he gasped, swinging over the side, cringing as it brushed up against his shirt and he grasped his arm.  He was definitely burned, fortunately it wasn’t too bad. 

He quickened his climb after that.  He had read that lava moved lowly, not like a freaking train like in Dante’s Peak, but here, it moved fast enough to where he had to have good reflexes to not get burned.  And if he slipped and fell, he would be dangling like a sitting goose for those harpies.  And they had been a major pain in the ass since he first stepped off the ground.  They would swoop in, pull on his hair, try to make him lose balance and then cackle and make another round. 

As the fifth one came swooping in, Nathan grimaced and grasped his blade, pulling it quickly out of the sheath at his side and shouted, waving it towards the harpy and it screeched, flapping its wings quickly to stop itself.  One touch and it would be dust.  Camp staff or not, Nathan was getting ready to disintegrate these bitches.  He had to slide the blade back into its sheath quickly, as holding on with one hand was difficult.  Hopefully that aggressive gesture would keep the harpies away long enough for him to reach the top. 

Finally, he pulled himself over the edge with a gasp, flinging himself down onto the ground and he breathed, closing his eyes as he panted, trying to catch his breath.  That was a hard climb.  He had never worked like that in his life.  He opened his eyes to see puffy white clouds floating across the sea of blue that hung above him and he breathed, rolling over.  He could still feel the heat of the lava on his face as it gooped out of slits on the side of the wall. Dimly, he was wondering where the lava was even coming from, but he thought no more of it when he remembered that he was living in a summer camp for demigods.  Things were going to happen that just couldn’t be explained.  

“Nathan?” Rose called from below.  “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Nathan shouted down, sitting up and he rubbed his face.  He could still feel his muscles aching.  He didn’t know how many more camp “activities” he would be able to handle.  First he nearly drowned, and then he was practically burned alive by lava.   And now to figure out how to get back on the ground, where he belonged.  

He glanced up, seeing the way down, a zipline.  He breathed, standing up and he looked around for a moment, wondering where the straps were that would make sure he wouldn’t fall to his death.  And naturally, there were no straps.  “Typical,” he muttered as he grasped onto the handlebars.  He glanced down, his stomach beginning to churn and bubble as he examined the height.  About fifty feet up.  He would be a pancake if he fell.  But it seemed to be the only way down.  

He leaped off the edge, bringing his knees up as he began to fly over the camp.  He closed his eyes, they had began to get watery as soon as he jumped off the edge, the wind blowing into his eyeballs, and he could still feel it ruffling his hair and blowing it backwards, and he could hear the strap sliding against the metal line as he rocketed towards the ground.  

Had he kept his eyes open, he would have seen the campers at the end telling him to slow down.  Crossing their arms in a “stop, stop!” gesture.  It was only when he opened his eyes that he saw the tree that the line was connected to.  But by that time, he was already smacking into it.

His head cracked up against the trunk.  He didn’t hear the laughter until he fell onto his back, the sky spinning around him as the trees began to split apart and regenerate at random around his body.  He squinted, trying to make sense of it, and the voices swirled around him, echoing. 

“You’d think he would have been able to see that coming,” chuckled a voice, and Nathan looked over numbly to a couple of girls that were leaning against the trees, smirking at him.  He hadn’t seen them around before.  They both had athletic figures, both with dark brown hair and they wore silver...well, silver everything.  Jacket, shirt, pants, even though the pants had a camo design.  Their boots however were black and they had bows slung over their shoulders.  “Some Oracle you are,” the girl sneered.

“What are you doing here?”

Nathan looked up, propping himself up on his elbow as Elijah stepped out of the woods.  A dark pack was slung over his shoulder, his black hair messy like he’d been in a twister, twigs sticking out at random.  From the way sweat dripped from his temple and the flushed look on his face, Nathan could guess he had been working out in the forest, or training.  

The girl that had spoken narrowed her eyes and straightened.  “We passed by and needed a place to stay.  Is that a problem, Creepy Crawley?”

Elijah sighed and shook his head.  “Eventually that nickname is going to get worn out.  Can’t you come up with something a little more clever?”

The girls glanced at one another, the younger chewing on her lip.  “Icepop?” she tried.  

Elijah lifted his hand, ice beginning to twirl around his fingertips.  “Is that a request?” he asked innocently, but there was a darker tone to his eyes.  A hateful glint.  “I’m sure you would both make lovely popsicles.”

It would appear the girls took the threat seriously, because they looked at each other warily and backed away.  “We won’t be here long,” the older one said, glowering down at Elijah.  “We can’t stand being in this camp for long anyways,” and the two girls left, whispering to one another furiously, fists tightened at their sides.

Elijah rolled his eyes and turned back to Nathan.  “The Hunters of Artemis.”  He put his hand out and Nathan grasped it, the son of Boreas pulling him up.  “Not the nicest group of girls.  Are you all right?”

“So I can tell.  And yeah, I’m fine,” Nathan muttered, watching after the girls as they walked over to the Artemis cabin and stepped inside.  He looked back at Elijah.  The boy seemed awkward, being in a conversation.  His hands were shoved into his white jacket, the furry hood hanging behind his head.  How he can wear that during the summer, Nathan did not know.  

“Your nose is broken.”

It was then that Nathan began to register the pain.  His nose was pulsing with it and he could feel the blood dripping from his nostrils, falling onto his shirt and he put his hands up to his nose in an attempt to catch the blood before it could get onto his shirt.  “Shit,” Nathan said simply.  

“Let me help with that,” Elijah muttered, pulling out a vial of golden liquid from the pocket of his jacket and Nathan’s eyes softened.  The guy really wasn’t that bad.  Nathan was surprised that 

“Nathan!” Nathan turned around, smiling as Ember made her way over, a look of concern washing over her face as she spotted his face, which was probably pretty messed up.  Then she spotted Elijah, extending a vial towards Nathan and her eyes narrowed and she stood defensively in front of Nathan.  “What the hell are you trying to give him, Crawley?”

Elijah sent her a glare, shoving the glass passed her and into Nathan’s hand.  “It’s nectar,” he growled.  He chuckled darkly.  “And this is why I don’t help people.”  He didn’t wait for an answer.  He spun around and trudged into the forest, ice glazing over the blades of grass that he stomped on and icy winds swirling around the boy.

“And you say I’m the ass,” Nathan muttered and Ember cringed.

“If I had known he was giving you Nectar...” Ember shook her head.  “Nevermind.  Listen, do you want to come eat with me?  It’s lunch.”  

“Sure,” Nathan sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he followed the girl to the pavilion.  It was bordered by massive, intricately carved Greek pillars.  Normally it would have held up a roof but there was no roof here.  What if it rains?  The lack of walls were nice though, the dining pavilion sat on a massive hill that overlooked the sea, and as Nathan sat down at the closest table, he could see the seagulls fanning out over the surface of the ocean.  

“Uh...this isn’t your table, Death Boy.”  Nathan looked up to see two girls sitting in front of him, one with a mop of curly, black hair and blue eyes and the other, the one that had spoken, with brown hair tied up, leaning back precariously on her seat with her feet propped up, green eyes looking at him skeptically.  

“I was unaware that there are assigned seats,” Nathan growled, a blush rising on his cheeks as he stood up, giving Ember a glare.  She shrugged.  

“She’s right.  Everyone sits at their cabin able.  That would be Hades...” she trailed off as she pointed.  A lonely little table in the corner with nobody else there.  Nathan was the only child of Hades in the camp, so it would appear he would have to sit alone.  He went to sit down but Ember tugged on his shirt.  “Nuh uh.”  She looked down at the two girls and cleared her throat.  “Can he sit here just for today?  This is the first time he’s been in the pavilion, so...”

Ah, so this must be the Hermes cabin.  The Hermes cabin hosts the minor gods, so Ember would be sitting here.  The two girls glanced at one another and the curly haired one hesitated.  “It’s forbidden...”

“Screw the rules,” said the other, an Australian accent lacing her words and she shruggedd.  “Go ahead.”  

Nathan nodded in thanks, sitting down and scooted closer to the table, Ember sitting down beside him.  “Thanks,” he said gruffly, looking down at the golden goblet that sat in front of him.  He glanced around.  Everyone else had full glasses, but he couldn’t see where they were getting their drinks from.  He cleared his throat and looked up.  “How do you...?” he gestured at the cup.

“Oh, you just say what you want and it will just appear,” said the curly haired one.

“Nathan, this is Odessa,” she gestured to the black haired girl.  “And this is Carly.”  The lip piercing, Australian girl gave a bored wave.  

Nathan wasn’t paying attention.  He didn’t necessarily care about their names.  He just wanted to get this day over with.  “Bud light,” he tried.  Maybe a buzz would make the confusion go away.  But instead the cup sparked and he flinched, glaring at the smoke that twisted from the goblet.  A laugh barked from his side and he cast a dark look over a Carly.

“What the hell are you laughing at?”

“Trust me, I already tried that,” Carly said with a grin.  “Non-alcoholic drinks only,” she said with a deeper tone, obviously trying to mimic Chiron.  “Everything here is specifically kid friendly and healthy,” she rolled her eyes.  “I’m down with healthy but Gods, I would die for a pizza right about now.”

At that moment, a plate was dropped down in front of Nathan and Nathan glanced down, a frown touching his lips.  Healthy is right.  Apples, a turkey sandwich and a little pile of grapes.  “I’m guessing we’re not allowed to leave and get some food from a convenience store or something?” he asked, popping a grape in his mouth.

Carly, Odessa and Ember were standing up, trays in hand.  “Nope,” Odessa said and the three began to walk towards a fire that sat at the front of the dining pavilion.  At first, Nathan thought they were going to sit by the flames, but he was surprised to see them all take at least a quarter of their meal and throw it into the fire.  

“Nathan!”  Rose’s voice.  Nathan looked over and the dark haired girl strolled up, a worried look on her face.  “Are you okay?  I didn’t see you after you went down the zipline, but everyone’s saying you knocked into the tree at the end...” she looked down at the blood on Nathan’s shirt and she cringed.  “I guess they were right.”

“I’m fine,” Nathan said.  He pointed towards the girls and the fire.  “What the heck are they doing, Rose?”

Rose glanced over and smiled.  “Oh, they’re just giving up their offerings...it’s just something we do to honor the Gods.”

“Why?”

Rose frowned, like she didn’t understand the question.  “What do you mean why?”

“Why honor the Gods?  Seems like all they do is just sit around, tell demigods what to do and make assholes out of themselves.  Especially the ‘Big Three.’”  

Thunder boomed above and Rose looked nervously up into the sky and then back down at Nathan.  “Be careful what you say, Nathan.  My father is one of the more...good natured of the Gods, but he wouldn’t be afraid to flood your cabin if you disrespect them.”

“And that’s another thing,” Nathan said with a chuckle.  “They can’t take shit.  They can deal it out, but once they start getting some in return, they start throwing a fit.”

Rose gave a weak shrug.  “I don’t know, Nathan.  That’s just how they are.”

“Well they’re going to live without my offering.”  Nathan began to shovel in his food then and Rose sighed, leaving him be.  Good.  He bit a grape in half and began to suck out the insides as Ember and the Hermes girls sat down.  

“Aren’t you going to offer your food?” Ember asked with a grin.  She knew he wouldn’t.  

Nathan rolled his eyes.  “As if.”  His eyes caught something on the floor and his eyes narrowed, standing up so that he could see it better before sitting down.  “What is that?” he asked, gesturing to the floor.  It looked like someone had sliced through the ground with a lightsaber and sewed it back up, like a massive scar.

“Nico,” Rose and Ember replied simultaneously.

Nathan blinked and sighed, looking down at the ground.  It looked like Nico really was everywhere...he had to find him.  This guy could be one of the only people who might be able to show him what he’s capable of...who he really is.  

 

Dark clouds rolled over the light cast by the moon, the silver shades casting down on the treeline that bordered Camp Half-Blood.  Hisses could be heard from the trees, and dark, red eyes gazed out from the leaves, talons gripping the branches tightly and the creatures hissed among one another as they shifted excitedly, gazing at the cabins that circled the smoldering fire.  Watching so many demigods, singing, dancing, laughing, they wanted to just leap up and tear them apart.

“Quiet!” hissed a boy from the shadows.  He was tall, muscular, the body of a perfect warrior with jet black hair that spiked out at random, his skin sporting a nice tan and cold, dark brown eyes gazed out from the trees.  His thumb was stroking the ring on his middle finger anxiously as he glared at the cabins.  It had not even begun yet and he was already anxious to kill.  He wanted this to begin so badly.

Two of the bat like, winged creatures began to get into a fight.  The boy glanced backwards with a sharp glare.  These morons were going to give them away.  He was about to tell them both to shut up when a hand reached out, grasping one of the oneiroi by the throat.  The centaur, its lower half a dark stallion, raised the creature up off the ground and the oneiroi was gagging and twitching, talons clawing at the hand that kept gripping the creature tighter and tighter.

“Asbolos,” sighed the boy, looking over at the dusky centaur.  “We can’t kill our infantry, as dim as they are.”

Asbolos released the oneiroi with a grunt and it scurried up the nearest tree, chattered at Asbolos angrily for a moment before disappearing into the leaves.  “My apologies, my prince,” Asbolos said gruffly.  “When will the attack begin, Khalcifer?”

“Once we get the signal,” Khalcifer said shortly, beginning to become impatient with the questions.  Asbolos sensed this and he hushed up, settling back.  Khalcifer hesitated and looked back at Asbolos.  “You’re sure you haven’t seen anything concerning this battle?  I want to know what we’re getting into.”

“Asbolos shook his head, his long, black hair waving in the breeze.  “No.  I have seen nothing of the outcome.  I’m sorry.”

A centaur prophet who could never foretell anything interesting or important.  Excellent.  Khalcifer shook his head with a low sigh, looking back to the camp.  The creatures grew silent as a tenseness began to fall over them.  The time was coming closer.  Something cracked from ahead and at once, all of the creatures straightened.  A sword materialized in Khalcifer’s hand as he shot up, relaxing as the figure stepped out of the shadows.  Elijah Crawley.

Khalcifer’s body relaxed.  “So?”

“I searched the perimeter,” Elijah said as he approached them.  He stopped about five feet away from Khalcifer, and something shimmered in front of him, the infernal border that protected Camp Half Blood.  “This is the best point of attack.”

Khalcifer narrowed his eyes. Elijah looked hesitant.   “Well, are you going to lower the shields?”  Elijah didn’t respond.  “Elijah.”  The black haired boy looked up, a distant look in his eyes.  “Lower the shields.”

Elijah’s eyes grew hard, as if remembering something and he nodded.  He lifted up his hand, placing it up on the border and it shimmered, the wall materializing in a more physical form.  As if he was brushing off dust, Elijah glided his hand over the border and it shuddered, before slowly collapsing in front of them.  “There.”

There was a dead silence.  Khalcifer took a hesitant step forward.  He felt a rush of power flood through him as he stepped through the border, and then there was nothing.  He was in Camp Half-Blood.  He gave a cold laugh, lifting up his head and he breathed, a grin on his face and his eyes closed, looking like he was soaking up the moonlight.  “Finally,” he whispered, lowering his head to leer over Elijah, a dark smile still plastered on his face.  “I will draw their attention.  Do what you need to do, Crawley.  Lord Erebos is counting on you...and you know the price for failure.”

Elijah gave a nod, his eyes hard.  “I know.  She will be ours.”

 


	17. Ambush from the Shadows

Ember was awoken by someone stepping on her face.  She groaned, opening her eyes and he heard Elijah’s voice swearing above her in a whispered tone.  She pretended she was asleep as he looked down to check on her.  She didn’t want to cause another argument...and being so rude to him earlier had definitely set them up for some kind of conflict in the future.  So she kept still and once he thought she went back to sleep, he continued forward.  

Ember opened one eye and watched as he stepped over campers and made his way over towards the door.  Now where did he think he was going?  Okay, so maybe Ember is a little paranoid about the guy, especially when she freaked out over Elijah trying to heal her friend.  But this was different.  Sneaking out?  Something was definitely up.  She waited until he slipped out the door to slide out of her sleeping bag.  She briefly considered waking up Mason, but decided against it when she saw how peaceful he looked, half hanging off his bunk bed snoring with drool puddling at the corner of his mouth on his pillow.  Man, dudes were gross.  But he must have heard her as she walked over the creaky boards of the Hermes cabin floor, because he lifted his head up, eyes droopy with exhausted and he rubbed at the corner of his mouth.  “Ember?” he muttered, sitting up.  “Where are you going?”

“I think the better question is where is Elijah going?” she jabbed her finger towards the window and Mason looked over just as Elijah slipped into the forest.  He frowned and swung his legs over the edge of his bed.

“That’s weird,” he whispered.  “I wonder where he’s off to.”

“That’s what I’m finding out,” Ember said, attaching a knife to her belt.  “Do you want to come with me?”

Mason groaned and rubbed his head.  “Are you kidding me?  He’s probably just off to brood or something.”

“Then why did he take his  _ stuff? _ ”

The two looked into the corner and the place where Elijah’s things had been gathered was now barren.  He had taken everything, except for his camp clothes which were gathered in a dusty little heap in the corner.  Mason frowned.  “All right, yeah something is up,” he admitted, standing up.  He was wearing nothing but some shorts and Ember looked away with a blush.  Abs.  Too many abs.  Mason shrugged into his shirt and strapped his blade to his belt.  He looked over to see Ember watching the wall.  “What?”

“Oh.  Nothing,” she said hurriedly, pointing at the door.  “Come on, lets catch up with him.”

 

Sneaking out the door, the two followed Elijah into the woods, hesitating only for a moment at the border before beginning to creep through the bramble.  The darkness was thick, and the two had to move twigs and branches out of each other’s way to avoid getting something in the eye.  They lost Elijah several times, having to whisper hurridly to one another about which direction they thought he might have gone in before setting back on track.  They could hear him up ahead, and they were moving as softly and as quietly as they could.

“Where the hell is he going?” Ember muttered, cringing as she leaned down to pull a thorn out of her shin.  

“You’ve already asked that,” Mason said, obviously trying to keep himself from snapping from exhaustion and frustration as he grasped a thorny vine, pulling it aside so that Ember could slip by and he followed her, letting it ease over their heads as they crept under it.  

“And I still don’t have an answer.  What if he’s-” Mason put a hand over her mouth and Ember’s eyes widened before narrowing and she tore his hand off, glaring at him.  

“What the hell?!”

“Listen,” Mason whispered, slowly lowering until he was in a crouch.  Ember went quiet.  

“I don’t hear anything.”

“Exactly.  I go hunting with Catherine at night, and there are always crickets, owls...” he lifted his head up, his eyes scrunched together.  “Now there’s nothing.”

“Monsters,” Ember said, looking ahead.  They always put animals on edge, and at the mention of the creatures, the two demigods rested their hands on their weapons, Mason on his sword and Ember on her knife.  They were quiet, listening to the whispers that rested on the winds as they billowed the trees and then they could hear the faint chatter coming from ahead.  Not the cutesy little chatter of a squirrel, more like the screechy chatter of an enemy that was far too familiar to Ember.

“Oneiroi,” she whispered and Mason nodded.  “What should we do?”

“Check it out,” Mason said instinctively, brows furrowed and he kept low to the ground as he slunk forward, his body lean and tense like he was ready to pounce as he crept along the forest.  Ember hesitated.  She wasn’t a warrior.  And she sucked pretty badly in the arena, but she gave a soft breath and followed after Mason, keeping close to him.  Fortunately for her, she was very light and sneaking came naturally to her, so she followed along quiet as a mouse as they approached where the sounds were coming from.  As they got closer, they could hear more than just oneiroi.  There were deep, throaty grunts like something from the back of a bull’s throat, hisses, the sounds of hooves pounding into the ground.  

Mason brushed away some brambles and they both stiffened up.  While they had been coming closer, Ember could imagine maybe ten, fifteen monsters.  But this...this was more than she had imagined.  There had to have been at least a hundred monsters gathered here, the majority of them oneiroi, hanging in the trees, upside down like bats or clinging to the tops like birds, screeching at one another.  But there were others as well, such as women with the lower halves of two snake trunks, their skin green and scaly with long black hair in dreads. 

She watched as one of the women lifted up her head, sniffing the wind and a snarl curled the edge of her lips.  “Half bloodsss,” she hissed, her hand tightening around the curved scimitar grasped in her hand.  

Her serpent friend beside her gave her a poitned glare.  “We have two demigods with usss,” she hissed irritably.  “We are near the Camp.  Of courssse you sssmell halfblood.”

“No,” growled the one.  “Othersss are clossee.”

“Mason,” Ember whispered.  “We should get out of here.”  But when she turned around, Mason was gone.  Ember stiffened, standing up.  “Mason?” she peered through the trees, but the wavy haired boy had disappeared.  “Shit,” she turned back to the monsters.  What should she do?  She doubted Mason was in trouble, he had probably snuck ahead to scout the monsters about a bit, see if there were anymore.  But that left Ember torn...should she go back to warn camp?  Should she find Mason?  Or should she just stay very still and try to not be spotted.  From the way Mason had stiffened, from how nervous he appeared, she guessed that this wasn’t normal...it was an attack.  

She had to warn Camp Half-Blood.

She turned around, set on racing back to Camp Half-Blood as quickly as she could, but before she got a chance, a hairy hand wrapped around her throat.  She gagged as her breath was torn away from her, being lifted up into the air and her feet kicked.  Her hands clawed at the paw that was holding her and she looked over, a scream being stopped in her throat.  She was looking into the eyes of a bull, horns curled around its head and its muzzle right in her face.  But its lower half was that of a very hairy man, like the sasquatch bull.  Ember knew exactly what this creature was.  The minotaur.

She clawed harder, trying to wriggle away as spots began to grow in front of her eyes.  The monster growled, squeezing harder and she choked, letting her hands droop down to her sides.

Mason pounded into the minotaur’s side, ramming it as hard and as fast as he could and the minotaur was so startled that it dropped her, stumbling back several feet.  Ember landed hard on the ground, coughing and gagging as she tried to breathe.  The minotaur roared, followed by the screeches of oneiroi and it drew an axe, throwing it down on top of Mason.  Mason was barely able to lift his celestial bronze blade, the impact sending him sprawling onto the ground and he rolled out of the way as the axe came again.

“Ember, go!” he shouted.  “Warn them!” he jumped up, lunging at the minotaur with his blade, only to be whacked by the beast’s arm and knocked up against a tree.  “Go!”

Ember shook her head, standing up with a stumble, dazed and out of breath and ran.  She didn’t know if it was the direction of Camp, she was just trying to get out of there as quickly as she could.  Mason had distracted the minotaur...hopefully it wouldn’t kill him, but she could hear the telltale flaps of oneiroi.  She looked to the side and could see them dodging and weaving through the trees alongside her, turning their heads and giving her fang filled smiles, their cackles echoing in her ears as they disappeared into the shadows cast by moonlight.

She didn’t know where she was going and several minutes later, she knew she was totally lost.  She pressed her back up against a tree, sweat and grime dripping down her face as she gasped, trying to catch her breath, a sob threatening to tear itself from her throat.  Mason...Gods, she hoped he was still alive.  He looked like he was struggling against the minotaurs and if the others found him...

She smelled smoke.  She frowned, lifting her head up to the air and she sniffed.  Definitely smoke, burning wood...the Camp.  “No,” she whispered, launching herself from her trunk and sprinting in the direction.  Now she could see it, column’s of smoke spiraling into the sky in murky clouds, shadowing the moon.  It couldn’t be that bad.  The demigods are monster hunters after all, there was probably just an accident.  She kept telling herself this as she wove through the trees like a deer, not even noticing when a branch snapped back, striking her face and leaving a line of blood.

She exploded through the trees, her breath caught in her throat.  Camp Half-Blood was in flames.  The cabins, the amphitheater, the arena.  Demigods were fighting for their lives, each one with a couple monsters on them.  The smoke was coming from the Hermes cabin, which had practically been burned to the ground.  She spotted her friends, Catherine and Mikhail standing back to back fighting off the oneiroi.  Rose in the lake, risen up above the waters using tentacles made from the lake to swat at the oneiroi that came at her and Zack with his siblings on pegasi, shooting their bows at the beasts that came from the trees.  But it wasn’t enough, there were too many.  

She had to help.  She grasped her dagger, about to run to the others to help them, to protect them, when she felt a cold chill on the back of her neck.  And there was only one person that could cause that.  She turned around to see Elijah stepping from the shadows of the trees, his face spattered with blood and a cold look to his eyes, icicles dripping from his fingertips like knives as he approached her.

“Elijah,” she breathed.  “You have to help me, the camp...we have to save them.”  Elijah didn’t respond.  He didn’t have an expression as he came closer.  She frowned.  “Elijah...?” 

Elijah thrust his hand out, an icicle shooting from his hand, impaling itself into her shoulder.  Ember screamed, going to her knees as pain began to wash over her.  Her eyes were drawn to the dagger like ice that stuck out of her shoulder.  It was already beginning to melt, but that didn’t make it any less painful and she drew her eyes up to Elijah, whispering one word before he grasped her uninjured shoulder, lifted up a triangular obsidian stone and teleported away.

Why?


	18. Paradise in Flames

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art is of Nathan and Khalcifer, and it belongs to this story. Do not use pls.

 

Nathan’s first thought when he smelled the smoke was that one of the Hermes guys was trying to light him on fire.  He wouldn’t be very surprised.  He gave a growl and rolled over, ready to cuss someone out but he frowned, seeing that his cabin was empty.  But he could definitely smell the smoke.  It was filling up his nostrils and he narrowed his eyes, sitting up, swinging his legs over the side of the bed.  Would they have started the campfire again...?  No, there was too much smoke.  Then he heard the screams.  A piercing scream right outside of his cabin and he jumped up, instinctively going for his blade which rested by his bed.  Something was wrong.

The door burst open and two figures entered.  One of them was a serpent like creature, a woman with the lower body of a snake, her skin scaly and a sickish green.  The other was a harpy, but definitely not part of the camp staff.  The harpy flew at him and he dodged to the side, flicking his sword and the blade sliced through the feathers which soon dissolved into dust.  He turned his attention to the dracanae, raising his blade and parrying her spear which had been aimed for his gut, twisting his blade and he disarmed the beast and he turned his sword around, jutting the butt of the blade into her gut and she gasped, doubling over which gave him the opportunity to flip his sword and ram it into her chest and she exploded into dust.  

Now, what the hell was going on?  

He burst through the door and he could instantly feel the heat on his face.  Camp Half-Blood was in flames. Every demigod was in combat, faring or dying, doubling up, treating each other’s wounds.  He watched as a young boy, maybe twelve was waving a sword like it was a stick, screaming, trying to keep the oneiroi that were closing in away, fear plastered on his young face as he backed away.  Nathan moved to help him when he saw movement to his left.  His head shot over and he breathed with relief.  Elijah.  He moved to help the guy, he was unarmed, he was going to be killed, but then he froze.  Two Ares campers were running by Elijah, to help the young boy, and Elijah thrust his hand out.  An icle the size of a spear launched from his open palm, embedding itself into the back of the Ares camper and he went down with a thud, completely still.  The other spun around, his eyes open wide in horror and he brought his head up to Elijah.  He didn’t hesitate.  The son of Boreas had killed his brother.  He shouted, drawing his blade and he sprinted towards Elijah, ready to kill.  Elijah easily sidestepped the attack, conjuring an ice dagger in his hand and he rammed it into the back of the boy’s neck, blood splattering up into his face and another camper went down.  

“Elijah!” Nathan growled.  

The black haired boy turned his head.  He didn’t look any different.  His black hair was still messy and jagged, his skin still snow pale.  But there was a new look in his eyes.  A murderous, hateful, in control look that Nathan had never seen before and he raised his hand, palm outstretched.  

Nathan’s eyes widened.  He was going to shoot ice at him, he was going to be killed.  But then he was tackled from the side.  He gave a “oof!” as he was sprawled to the ground, a boar hovering over him with glimmering red eyes and black, rough fur.  Nathan growled, kicking the thing off of him and looked over to where Elijah had been.  The boy had disappeared.  He turned his attention back to the boar.  It was about to make another round on Nathan but evaporated into dust as three arrows pounded into its side.  Nathan looked up and spotted Zack propped up on top of the Big House, his pegasus flying from him.  

“Nathan!” he called down.  “Help the others!” and he shot an arrow at an oneiroi which was shooting towards him and the thing evaporated into thin air.

Who could he help?  There was too much going on, too many people in danger.  All around him, demigods were fighting for their lives, struggling to fend off multiple monsters that were coming closer and closer, getting past their defenses.  His eyes locked on the young boy he had seen before.  He now recognized him.  It was that kid, Troy, who was using the water in his waterbottle to splash at the monsters, trying to keep them back, to keep them from getting closer.  But they would.  Two oneiroi and another dracanae.  

Nathan growled, his sword grasped in his hand as he sprinted towards the boy and his attackers, blade out in front of him.  He leaped into the air, landing on one of the oneiroi which had flown up to pounce on Troy and he drove his sword into its back, falling to the ground as the thing disintegrated beneath him.  He spun on the other oneiroi, dodging as it rocketed towards him, trying to cut at him with its talons and he sidestepped, slashing his blade and it tore into its wing.  The dracanae, recognizing a formidable foe, hissed, grabbing the attention of two of her sisters and they grimaced, slithering into the arena with Nathan and Troy.

Troy took up a defensive position behind Nathan, his face screwed up in determination with his sword poised to attack.  “You want a freakin piece of me?” he snarled, twirling his blade, ready to kick some monster ass.  Nathan had to hand it to the kid, he was pretty brave . He turned his focus back on the three serpents who were coming closer and he narrowed his eyes, his body ready to attack on a moment’s notice.   

The boy behind Nathan screamed and he spun his head around, watching as the kid was put into a headlock by an older guy.  A couple years older than Nathan, with shaggy black hair, tanned skin and dark, cold eyes.  And he was definitely not an ally.  It was a distraction long enough for one of the dracanae to jab their spear into his side and he gasped, stumbling and he wrenched it out of his body, smacking her in the face with his elbow and he twisted the spear and and attacked her with her own weapon, driving it into her stomach and she exploded into dust.  The other two came at him.  He dodged the one and used his blade to disarm the other, kicking her backwards and spun around to block the other’s attack, jerking his blade to the left and sliced it across her chest and she fell.  The last one, the one that he had kicked was quickly backing away.  She was going to run, she wasn’t going to be a problem.

He turned back on the boy and this new guy, and his gut twisted as he realized that he was too late.  The guy had pushed Troy away, and was strangling him with...shadow?  Tendrils of darkness were rippling out of his open palm, entwining the boy in the coils, strangling him, forcing the life out of him.  The guy clenched his hand into a fist and the shadow seemed to seem into the boy’s skin, scarring his flesh with black marks where the tendrils had been and the boy fell, eyes open and still.

“Troy, no!” Nathan shouted, panic setting in.  He didn’t like Troy, but the idea that he was dead...it filled Nathan with a rage that he hadn’t felt before.  A bloodlust.  

Nathan rammed his shoulder into the guy and he toppled over, quickly regaining his footing as he readied his blade.  The sword itself was scary, jet black with a jagged edge and a dark gem encrusted hilt.  And then there was the user.  Nathan was skilled with swordplay, somehow.  Like it was in his genes.  But this guy...he was different.  He was probably just as, if not more, skilled at combat that Nathan was.  And the guy could sense it, sense Nathan’s fear as a cold smile slipped onto his lips.  

“Who are you?” Nathan growled, trying to buy time as he grasped his sword more tightly.  

The guy smirked.  “Khalcifer, son of Erebos, the Master of Shadows.  And the last person you will ever see before I carve out your insides.”  He lunged forward robotically and Nathan raised his blade, parrying the attack, but the blow was so forceful that he stumbled back a few steps.  He barely regained his balance when Khalcifer’s blade began to come at him again, slashing up and down, Nathan’s hands a blur as he tried to deflect and parry all the attacks that came at him.  Nathan was barely surviving as he ducked and dodged, the blade continuously coming at him while Khalcifer wasn’t even breaking a sweat as he pressed forward against Nathan.  

Something caught Nathan’s attention over Khalcifer’s shoulder.  A figure coming from the woods.  Ember.  She looked as stunned as he felt, her eyes widening as she watched the camp in flames.  She began to move forward to help.  Seeing her caught him off guard and Khalcifer pounced on him, knocking him to the ground and Nathan’s head cracked up against a piece of rubble his vision going blurry.  He kept still though as a blade was now to his throat, Khalcifer leering over him.  

Khalcifer glanced backwards to see what Nathan had been looking at and he grinned, looking back down at Nathan.  “You know her?”  He grasped Nathan’s collar, jerking him upwards so that he was sitting up, the sword still at his throat, pressing into his flesh.  “Watch.”

Nathan didn’t know what he was watching for until he saw Elijah stepping out of the trees behind her, ice forming at his palms.  Nathan went to cry out, to warn her, but Khalcifer clamped his hand over his mouth and Nathan was only able to make a muffled grunt.  “No, no, no,” Khalcifer scolded.  “Don’t ruin the show.  It gets better.”  Nathan’s eyes widened as Elijah shot the ice out of his palm, impaling itself into Ember’s shoulder.  Nathan tried to jerk away from Khalcifer, but doing so only made a line of blood appear on his throat, not deep, but it gave Nathan the point and he settled back, feeling completely useless as Elijah stepped up to Ember, put his hand on his shoulder and vanished.  

Ember was gone.

“Well,” Khalcifer muttered, watching after where Ember and Elijah had been.  “Mission success,” he looked down, smirking.  He didn’t move as Nathan yanked his hand off, glowering up at the boy with a deathly glare.

“Where is she?” he snarled and Khalcifer shrugged. 

“None of your concern, dead boy.”  Nathan didn’t think it was a reference to his father.  Khalcfier’s blade raised to pierce him in the gut when an arrow snacked up against the hilt.  It surprised Khalcifer enough for the son of Erebos to gasp, dropping his blade and it clattered to the ground.  Nathan elbowed him in the face, sending Khalcifer sprawling on the ground and Nathan leaped up, grasping his blade.  But the blow to the face didn’t daze Khalcifer for long, he was soon on his feet again with a glare plastered on his face, the smirk long gone.  

He moved to approach Nathan when to figures approached.  Zack, with his bow drawn, the arrow pointed directly at Khalcifer with Catherine standing beside her, her auburn hair tousled and messy with a murderous look on her face as she stepped forward.  

“So you’re the asshole that’s been messing with my home,” she said with a growl, stepping forward towards Khalcifer.  

Zack stood next to her, his blue eyes going down to Troy’s body which lay still on the ground and he turned his glare back up to Rose.  “That was my friend’s brother,” he said.  It was odd to see Zack like this, his charismatic little smile replaced with a look of murder.

Khalcifer chuckled, leaning down and grabbed his blade, giving it a playful twirl.  “My condolences.”  Sarcasm dripped from his words like ice and he thrust his blade out.  The jagged end, which Nathan had believed to be just a bladed edge, suddenly disconnected from the sword in shurikens, pounding into Zack’s gut and the son of Apollo gasped, going to his knees as the bow dropped from his hand.  Khalcifer immediately leapt towards Catherine, the red head barely had time to draw her blades and block his attack which would have taken off her head.  

He would have finished her, but Nathan flanked Khalcifer from behind, forcing the boy to direct his attention on both Catherine and Nathan as the two frenzied demigods pounded away from him.  And when Mason stumbled from the woods, his face and shirt bloody and in tatters but definitely able and dangerous, Khalcifer knew that he was in trouble.  

Nathan and Mason kept Khalcfier busy while Catherine slipped away to help Zack, who was curled up on the ground shaking, grasping his bloody stomach, trying to keep himself awake.  Nathan was fueled by hate and rage, and he swung upwards with his sword as hard as he could, disarming Khalcifer and the son of Erebos ducked out of the way as Mason’s blade came down from behind.  He rolled to his sword, picking it up and deflected Nathan’s attack, kicking Mason and catching him in the chest, sending the unclaimed demigod to the ground.  

He twisted his blade, the blunt end smacking Nathan’s hand and his sword flung from his grip.

Khalcifer smiled coldly.  He raised his blade to stab it into Nathan’s gut when a current of water splashed into him, knocking him to the ground.  He grunted as his back hit the ground and he tried to get up but another burst of water splashed him in the face and he gasped, coughing out the liquid that had been blown down his throat.  His body was completely soaked.  It immediately began to freeze, sticking him to the ground and Rose approached, her face hard and cold with her sibling Nerida behind her, the two with looks that could kill as they approached Khalcifer.  Her eyes flicked to Troy’s body and her brown eyes flickered with hate, looking back up at Nathan who had retrieved his sword.

“Kill him,” she said simply.  Nathan didn’t question her.  He turned on Khal who lay on the ground, his hands up, his dangerous blade lying several feet away.  He knew it was over.  Completely surrounded, disarmed.  Nathan wasn’t a killer.  He wasn’t a murderer.  But remembering Ember, the pain in her eyes as that icicle jammed into her shoulder, being teleported away to Gods knows where.  Nathan’s blade glittered in the firelight and with a cry, thrust the sword downwards.

“Stop!”  

Sabrina’s voice snapped in the silence and Nathan’s blade stopped an inch from Khalcifer’s throat.  Nathan brought his glare up to Sabrina as she came to them, her long, wavy hair flowing behind her like a black drape.  She held a dagger in her hand, covered in a black, oily liquid which Nathan identified as oneiroi blood.  

“Why?” Nathan growled, looking back to Khalcifer.  The boy tried to inch away and Nathan placed his boot on the guy’s chest and Khalcifer went still.

“We need him.”

“For what?” Nathan spat, glaring up at Sabrina.  

Sabrina’s eyes went hard.  “Do you want to find Ember?”  That hit something.  Nathan hesitated then gave a weak nod and Sabrina smirked.  “I thought so.  Bring him to the Big House.  We will question him...” she looked back down at Khalcifer.  “And then dispose of him in whatever way we see fit.”  Khalcifer’s eyes widened and Sabrina looked back at Nathan.  Without even glancing downwards, Sabrina whipped a knife from a secret fold in the white shirt she was wearing and flicked it downwards and the blade impaled itself into Khalcifer’s hand, the boy shouting out and grasping his wrist.  “He will pay for what he has done.  I promise you that.”


	19. The Capture of Khalcifer

Nathan threw Khalcifer none too gently down onto the floor of the infirmary.  Khalcifer grunted as his face smacked into the wooden boards, rolling over with a groan, but with Nathan’s boot again on his chest, he froze, glaring up at the son of Hades.  The Apollo guys who had been hurrying around healing campers who were being brought in began to move away, looking anxiously at Khalcifer and back up at the demigods, wondering if they should continue what they were doing or stop and when Sabrina gave them a dismissive wave they continued tending the fallen campers, but they kept wary eyes on the demigod who lay disarmed on the ground.

“Don’t even think about it,” Sabrina said, striding past Khalcifer as she went to clear off a bed.  Nathan frowned, looking back down at Khalcifer and noticed that the guy’s hand had drawn close to the dagger at his hip.  Yeah, right.  Nathan grabbed the dagger’s hilt, sliding it out of the sheathe and tossed it backwards to Catherine who grabbed it and placed it on the table behind her.  

“Got any others on you?” Catherine growled, stepping forward.  Khalcifer said nothing, only gave her a cold glare and stayed quiet.  Catherine didn’t stand for that silent look, though.  She gave Nathan a rough push and the son of Hades stumbled a few steps, watching as she flipped Khalcifer onto his chest and Khalcifer grunted in pain as his hand knocked up against the floor.  The sound of his pain made the Apollo kids cringe but they stayed away, watching as she began to dig her hands through his pockets.  He looked like he was ready to kill, but he wasn’t a fool.  With Sabrina, Nathan and many others keeping a sharp eye on him, Khalcifer must have known that attacking her would have been suicide.  Catherine finally tore the seventh and final weapon from his body and stood up, dropping them all on the table.  “How many weapons can you fit on one person?” she muttered and Nathan gave a snort.

“Ask Samantha, I bet she’d show you how.”

The door opened and Mikhail strode in, cradling the body of a young girl.  He looked ready to cry, his eyes rimmed with red as he carried her over.  Nathan felt his breath get caught in his throat.  Carly.  He had heard that Carly and Mikhail had dated, before they got into a fight, but Mikhail obviously still had feelings for her as he rested her down on one of the empty beds, cringing as she moaned in pain, her entire side bloody and he drew a chair over beside her bed, sitting with his head between his knees in sorrow as the Apollo guys began to work on her, muttering nervously.

“How many casualties do we have?” Sabrina whispered to Catherine as the auburn haired girl drew close to her.

“Too many.”  She turned her gaze over to the body of another girl that lay, half shrouded.  She was dead, that much was certain and Nathan took a shuddery breath, looking away.  Essie, an unclaimed girl...too many were dead.  

“Elijah killed a couple Ares guys before he left.”

Catherine and Sabrina both looked over, surprise glinting in their eyes.  “Elijah?” Sabrina snapped with a frown.  “What are you talking about?”

Nathan chuckled darkly, looking down at Khalcifer.  “Ask him.”  

The three turned back to Khalcifer, just as Mason strode in through the door, holding Zack.  The blonde’s head was slumped backwards and Rose trailed behind them, whispering to Mason, asking if he was going to be all right.

“Zack!” Catherine gasped, rushing to the blonde’s side as Mason laid him out on top of a table.  Zack groaned and looked over at Catherine, giving her a smile, not very effective as blood stained the edge of his lips.

“Hey,” he croaked.  “No need to worry about me,” he held his fist out, obviously looking for a bro fist, but Catherine smacked it away, a pained look on her face.  

“Don’t be stupid.”  She hesitated, and Nathan strolled over as she lifted up his shirt, paling as she saw the three jagged, bloody lines.

“He’ll be all right,” muttered one of Zack’s siblings as he rested a cold cloth against Zack’s forehead, stopping the boy’s shivering.  “Some nectar will save him.”

“Save him.”  The words were chuckled from behind and the demigods turned on Khalcifer, who had propped himself up against one of the beds, his back up against the post as he glared at them, and Nathan wanted to slice up that knowing smile that rested playfully on his lips.  “Nothing can save you.” 

He wasn’t just talking about Zack.  Khalcifer spotted the hateful look that spawned on Nathan’s face and he grinned.  “And nothing will save her, either.”

Nathan’s boot was instantly out, catching Khalcifer in the chest and there was a crack as a rib broke and the son of Erebos grimaced, doubling over as he coughed, blood splattering onto the floor.  Catherine shoved Nathan roughly away from Khalcifer, pinning him to the wall with her forearm.  “What the hell are you doing?” she growled, looking over as two Apollo guys rushed over to Khalcifer to check him out.  “We need him.”

“Kicking him won’t kill him,” Nathan growled, yanking her arm down from his chest.  

“I promised you could finish him in any way you please once we’re finished with him,” Sabrina said calmly.  “And now we must-”

“Finish who?” The demigods looked up as a shape loomed in the doorway.  Chiron poked his head into the room, scanning the demigods and his eyes landed on Khalcifer.  They widened slightly and a confused look overtook him as he stepped into the infirmary.  Khalcifer stiffened, a frown on his lips as Chiron approached, leaning down so that he could look at Khalcifer more closely.  “Khalcifer,” Chiron breathed.  “You...you’re alive.”

“No thanks to you,” Khalcifer smiled, a bitterness to his voice and Chiron cringed.

“There was nothing that could be done.”

“Yeah, right.”

Nothing that could be done about what?  Nathan wanted to ask this and many other questions, such as which eye Khalcifer preferred but Chiron was already speaking.  “Where have you been?  You have been gone for years.”

“Is this what you’re going to be questioning me about?” Khalcifer snapped sharply and Chiron straightened.  “Stop wasting my time old man and get on with the questioning.”

“How did you lower the shields?”

“Where is Ember?”

“Are there any more of you in the woods?”

Catherine, Nathan and Mason asked the questions simultaneously and Khalcifer blinked, hesitating for a minute, as if he was thinking.  “All right, let’s see...” he jabbed a finger at each of the three demigods.  “Fuck you, fuck you and fuck you.”

Nathan jerked forward to strike Khalcifer, stopped only from Chiron’s firm hand that rested on his shoulders.  “Now is not the time, Nathan,” Chiron said and he turned his attention back to Khalcifer, his eyes soft.  There was a look in Chiron’s eyes...it was a sad look.  Like he was watching a child die before his very eyes, but it was an expression wore before, as his face looked tired with cold remembrance.  Khalcifer was not the first demigod he has seen go to the dark side.  “Khalcifer,” he said.  “We don’t want to hurt you.  We care about you.”  Nathan snorted.  “But if you do not respond to our questions, we will have to use whatever means necessary in order to get our answers.”

Khalcifer gave a sharp laugh.  “You care about me, but you’d hurt me if I don’t tell you what you want to know?” his face was consumed with a dark smile.  “Right.  I forgot how benevolent Camp Half-Blood is.”

“How did you lower the shields?”

“Did you not hear me the first time?  Fuck.  You.”

“Where was Ember taken?  Who took her?”

Khalcifer was starting to look pissed now.  “Are you deaf pops?  Shut the hell up!”

“Are there any more of you in the woods?”

“Oh my gods,” Khalcifer muttered, banging his head back up against the table with a thud and he closed his eyes, now completely shutting Chiron out.  The centaur gave a sigh and nodded, turning to Sabrina.

“He’s too far gone.”  Saying the words seemed to be painful to Chiron and he shook his head sorrowfully, looking at the daughter of Aphrodite.  “We need those answers.  Do what you need to do.”

Sabrina nodded, walking over to Khalcifer and she went down on her knees next to him, cocking her head  as she studying him, drawing a finger nail up his chest and under his chin.  He jerked under her touch, giving her a glare.  “What are you doing?” he growled.

“Khalcifer.”  There was something different about her voice.  A seductive, cold, sultry sound to it that made even Nathan shiver, watching the scene.  Khalcifer’s entire body froze as he watched Sabrina, unblinking, like he was in a trance.  This must be charmspeaking.  Khalcifer looked like he wanted to tear his gaze and look away, but he couldn’t, everyone in the room was entirely focused on Sabrina and her complete beauty.  “Who took Ember?”

“Elijah.”  He spoke like his mouth wasn’t connected to his brain, and Nathan could see the hatred flashing in his eyes as he was forced to speak what was never meant to be spoken. 

Sabrina frowned and Chiron took a step backwards, a sad, understanding look on his face.  “Why?” Sabrina asked, looking genuinely confused and hurt by Elijah’s betrayal.  

“He hated you.  He hated the camp for what it had done to him.  How they hurt him, how they betrayed him-”

Catherine barked a laugh, her eyes narrowed.  “Hurt him?  He killed a son of Ares.  And he just did again!”

Sabrina gave Catherine a sharp look at interrupting the trance, but Khalcifer answered nonetheless.  “He killed him in self defense.  Nobody believed him, they just called him a murderer.”

Nathan snorted.  He wasn’t about to believe that shit.  From how ruthlessly and mercilessly Elijah had killed those guys...the son of Boreas never had a soul.  He quieted his thoughts as Sabrina asked her next question.

“I’m guessing Elijah is the one that lowered the shields, then.”  Khalcifer gave a nod and Sabrina blew a strand of hair out of her face with a roll of her eyes, looking back at Chiron.  “We really have to make it harder for Campers to let in strangers,” she turned back to Khalcifer.  “Where has Ember been taken?”

“To my father’s palace.  The Shadowspire.”

Catherine, Sabrina and Chiron stiffened.  “The Shadowspire?” Chiron asked quickly, looking down at Sabrina and the two shared a worried look.  “What would Erebos need Ember for?”

“A ritual.”  Khalcifer looked like he was physically in pain now.  Like he was struggling against chains, and sweat dripped down his face during his conflict against Sabrina’s will.

“A...” he swallowed.  “They need her for...” he gave a violent shake of his head and threw it backwards so hard against the table that Nathan thought he might pass out, the entire table shook and there was a crack. “No!” he snapped, glaring at them.  The knife had slit a line of blood onto his throat by his quick movement and although it wasn’t going to make him bleed out, it was slipping down his throat.  He didn’t seem to notice.  He was glaring at Sabrina like he was going to kill her.  

“Tell me,” she was using the voice again, but Khalcifer’s glare stayed steady and strong.  Sabrina sighed and stood up, looking at Chiron.  “He gave himself a concussion,” she said coolly.  “I can’t get to his head if it’s messed up, it’s like trying to pick apart macaroni.”

Images flashed before Nathan’s mind.  The dark room.  The two thrones.  The pentagram on the floor and...and Erebos.  Everything was coming together.  He reached out, grabbing Chiron’s arm and the centaur looked down with alarm as he spotted the panicked look on Nathan’s face.  “Nathan, what is it?”

“We have to get her, now!”

“The Shadowspire is in the Underworld,” Mason said.  “It would take us a while to get there.”

“No, we have to!”

“Nathan, what’s going on?  What is the urgency?”

“She’s going to be used in a...a ritual.”

“How do you know?”

“I had a dream.  I was in this cave looking place, and there were these two, huge thrones.  They were made out of obsidian, I think.  There was a girl lying on the ground, with brown hair, a daughter of Hecate-”

“Natalia!” Rose whispered.  “She was taken by Erebos?”

Nathan cringed.  “She was lying on this pentagram that was carved into the ground...and this guy appeared, Erebos.  He had this huge scythe-”

“Erebos’ weapon is a sword, not a scythe,” Mason said with a frown.

“Can you stop interrupting me?!” Nathan snapped impatiently and the demigods quieted quickly under his angry tone.  “He said that Hecate’s blood would suffice and he had a couple oneiroi lift her up and he cut her wrist with a dagger and filled a goblet with her blood, and he poured the blood into a skull that was on the scabbard of a sword.  And the clasp opened and he drew the sword...” Nathan shivered.  “It was...an evil sword.  I could feel it.  He summoned Thanatos, you know, the god of Death and to test the blade’s power, he tried to kill Thanatos.  I guess it was supposed to be able to kill immortals or something because when it didn’t kill Thanatos, he got angry.  Thanatos told him that he would need the blood of Hecate herself, or her strongest child.  And then Erebos...did something to Thanatos.  Possessed him or something, and told him to bring the daughter of Hecate.”

“I wonder why Elijah was the one who grabbed her then,” Rose wondered.  

“Thanatos and Elijah have always been close,” Chiron said quietly, his eyes hard.  “I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s the one who talked Elijah into kidnapping Ember.  Did you see anything else, Nathan?”

Nathan shook his head.  “No, that was it.  But we have to find her...I think they’re going to kill her.”

“Knowing Erebos, whatever he is planning is not good.”  Sabrina looked towards Khalcifer.  “Want to add anymore details, Khal?”  Khalcifer gave her a dark glare and Sabrina shrugged, looking back at Chiron.  “We need to begin a quest and go after her.”

“But in order to have a quest we would need...” Catherine stopped and looked towards Nathan.  “A prophecy.”

Nathan blinked, wondering where she was going with that, then upon realizing his eyes widened and he quickly back pedaled.  “No, I can’t!  I can’t just...spew prophecies, I couldn’t control the last one and it also made me really sick, being unconscious for a couple days, remember?”

“That was the Great Prophecy, Nathan,” Chiron soothed.  “This is more important...Ember needs you.”

Ember needed him.  That wasn’t something that he didn’t hear often.  He had no idea how to start, how to begin telling a prophecy, but everyone was looking at him so expectantly...he couldn’t just stand there and do nothing.  He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.  “All right,” he whispered and he concentrated.  He didn't’ know what he was supposed to concentrate on.  What this Shadowspire is?  Where Khalcifer came from?  Erebos and the ritual?  But his mind ended up falling on Ember.  The way her face crinkled up when she smiled.  Her sarcastic, smart responses to his insults.  The way she would pity any animal, even if it was a fly that Nathan had so mercilessly squashed.  He concentrated on his best friend.  

His body stiffened up immediately and the demigods and Chiron jerked, watching as a glow of green began to overtake Nathan’s dark eyes, and the mist began to pour out of Nathan’s mouth, stretching over the floor until the entire infirmary was filled with the green smoke.  A hum began to vibrate in the demigods ears as Nathan began to speak, his voice echoing as if spoken by a hundred people.

_ Descend into the river of lost souls, _

_ Follow ghosts to the darkest holes. _

_ Tend to the bleeding light, _

_ Or risk the fate of eternal night. _

_ The black blade strips her life, _

_ Their heart torn away with love’s knife. _

_ Thrust into jewels between rotten thrones, _

_ The sword sits upon a crown of bones.  _

The effort of speaking the prophecy nearly made Nathan collapse, and he groaned, falling over and Mikhail caught him quickly, having moved away from Carly and straightened him.  The demigods looked ready to rush Nathan over to a bed but Nathan was merely dazed, shaking his head with a glassy look in his eye and he stumbled over to a chair, sitting down.  “Woah,” he muttered, rubbing his temples as he tried to straighten his thoughts.  “What...what did I say?”

“Descend into the river of lost souls, follow ghosts to the darkest holes.  Tend to the bleeding light, or risk the fate of eternal night.  The black blade strips her life, their heart torn away with love’s knife.  Thrust into jewels between rotten thrones, the sword sits upon a crown of bones,” Catherine recited the prophecy word for word perfectly and Nathan looked at her with a raised brow.  “It’s an Athena thing.”

Nathan nodded. “Okay, but what does it mean?  What ghosts?  The two thrones I saw in the dream?  What’s love’s kni-”

“We don’t know,” Chiron interrupted.  “You can’t figure out these prophecies upon first hearing them...they unfold.”

Nathan gave a frown.  “I’m the one who spoke it, shouldn’t I know it?”

“Prophecies don’t work that way, dumbass,” Khalcifer piped up with a roll of his eyes.

“Whatever.  I gave a prophecy, now we need to go!”

“I agree.”  Chiron straightened up and watched the seven demigods with a frown, his eyes going over the seven.  “Three will go.  It is dangerous for four demigods to go.  Zack.”  Zack looked up from his bed, looking like  he was still about to pass out but at the same time entirely intrigued by the conversation.  “You will go.  The demigods will need your light in the land of the dead, and this quest isn’t just about Ember...the bleeding light.  That must mean Apollo.  Your father will need your help.  Zack’s face brightened and he gave a nod, eager to rescue his father.  “Mason.”  Mason had been sitting on a chair and he looked up tiredly.  “You’ve been on the most quests out of the seven.  The demigods will need your leadership.”  Mason gave a nod, his eyes sparking as he recognized his responsibility and his back instantly straightened.  “And Nathan.”  Nathan frowned, looking up at Chiron in surprise.  “You will go, too.”

“What?” Catherine and Nathan snapped.  Catherine beat him to it.  “Chiron,” she said, obviously trying to keep her temper.  “You told me I could go on the next quest.  I’ve been dying for one, and they’ll need me, they’ll never be able to make it to the Shadowspire on their own.”

“Nathan is a son of Hades.  If anyone can navigate the Underworld, it will be him.”

“But I’ve never even been to the Underworld,” Nathan sputtered.  “How will I be able to navigate it if I’ve never been there?!”

“It will come to you.”

“Yeah, right.”

“Chiron,” Catherine pleaded, stepping forward.  “Please.”

“I would like to go on this quest as well,” Sabrina said, looking up at Chiron.  “Please.”  There was the same kind of tone to her voice that she had used on Khalcifer, but centaurs must be immune because Chiron’s eyes narrowed dangerously.  “No, Sabrina.  I need you.  And I need you as well, Catherine.  You two will be instrumental in helping to rebuild the Camp, and the demigods will need your leadership.”

Catherine opened her mouth to argue, but realizing it was hopeless she let it go in a disappointed sigh.  “Whatever.  How are they even going to get to the Underworld anyways?”

“The Doors of Orpheus.”  They looked over at Mikhail and the Russian gave an embarrassed shrug, a blush rushing onto his features at attracting the attention of the most powerful people in camp.  

“It’s just in New York, right?  A short cut into the Underworld.”

“The Doors of Orpheus might work,” Chiron muttered, and he stroked at his peppered jaw for a few moments in deep thought before he drew his hand away and looked at Nathan, Mason and Zack who had gathered next to each other anxiously.  “Pack tonight.  You will leave for the Underworld at dawn.”

  
  



	20. The Shadowspire

Ember’s head was pounding as she opened her green eyes, gazing upwards.  The world was blurry and fuzzy, spinning around before her and she moaned, blinking several times and the cloudiness of her surroundings began to melt away.  She frowned.  A dark chandelier sparkled above her, turning slowly with small, orange candles burning along the edges.  She was underground.  There was a stone ceiling above her, engraved with designs of tortures, of people cowering in corners, of darkness seeping over cities and towns, engulfing them, and two, massive figures in the stars.  She could tell just by the carvings that she was not meant to be here, that it was dangerous here.  

She tried to move, but her wrists and feet couldn’t move.  She looked down, she was laying on the ground, her wrists and feet bound down by magic.  She huffed and struggled against the force that was pushing her down, but the more she wriggled and moved, the tighter it began to squeeze her wrists and finally she gave up, lifting her head up enough to look around.  She was in a throne room.  She seemed to be in the center of it, large, Greek pillars holding up the ceiling, ancient symbols carved into the dark stone.  Braziers sat between each pillar, purple flames lighting up the room in an eerie light.  But what caught her attention the most were up the short flight of stairs which spread across the entire room.  The two massive thrones sitting in  the back of the room, shadowed by glowing, blue crystals that protruded from the stone.  They were both huge, able to fit giants and made out of pure obsidian.  They were evil, with thorny arm rests and dark carvings etched into the obsidian.  

She had to get out of here.  She grunted as she began to struggle against the binding, and a voice sounded from the darkness.  

“There’s no use.  You can’t break free.  That magic is used to bind gods and men.”

She turned her head and watched Elijah step from the shadows.  He was in a different outfit, his jacket gone and replaced with a light grey shirt and he wore black jeans, a sword strapped to his side.  Odd, because Elijah never used a blade.  

“Elijah, you little shit” she snarled.  “Let me go!”

Elijah smirked, crossing the room and knelt down by her.  “Why would I do that?  I just dragged your ass all the way out here.”  

Ember spat and it splattered against his cheek.  He narrowed his eyes, rubbing it away with the back of his hand.  “Rude.”

“Shut the hell up.  Where am I, Crawley?  Why am I here?”

“You’re in the Shadowspire,” he brought his arms up and gestured around the room.  “In the throne room of Nyx and Erebos.  As for why, well, I can’t really say.”

A glow caught Ember’s attention and she looked down, her eyes widening as she spotted glowing, green lines running along  the ground that she lay on.  She moved her head around to look at them all, they spread out from her fingertips to the ground.  Then she saw it.  She was lying on a pentagram.

“What is this?” she whispered, fear slipping into her voice.  She brushed her finger against one of the lines and jerked as it glowed green for a moment before fading back.

“It’s the sacred symbol of your mother,” Elijah said, running his own finger along the lines.  Nothing sparked, it stayed still and he shook his head, looking back at Ember.  “A ritual kind of thing.  It enhances the power of a child of Hecate.  I don’t know why, I mean hell I don’t even know why you’re here.”

“Sure you don’t.”

He lifted up his hands in a surrendering gesture.  “I swear I don’t.  I mean, I know that he needs you for something but I don’t know what that something is, or how he’s going to end up using you.”  Elijah immediately stiffened up, his grey eyes flicking upwards, a flash of fear sparking in them and he quickly stood up, putting his hands behind his back and took several paces backwards, drawing out the distance between he and Ember.

A coldness began to filter into the room.  It wasn’t a cold like Elijah’s chilliness that followed him like a frigid mist.  It was the kind of cold that you feel underground, when you’re feeling suffocated, and afraid.  Her eyes were drawn to a tunnel, and darkness began to slither out onto the walls of the throneroom like tendrils, snaking upwards and twining around the black chandelier that hung above her.  Her hair stood up on end as fear began to slide down her spine.  

“Don’t do anything stupid.”  She could barely hear Elijah as he whispered quietly from where he stood, his face hard and stoic as he watched the tunnel like a watch dog.  “Just do what he says and you’ll be alright.”

Ember swallowed, turning her gaze back to the tunnel.  She froze.  A man stood in the tunnel, his hands behind his back, half shadowed by the darkness of the tunnel.  But from this distance, she could see short, cropped black hair, and a peppered jaw.  He wore a dark suit, and at his side, a dark blade that glimmered with black light.  

“Ember.”  He didn’t speak.  She could hear the words vibrating in her skull and she cringed away, drawing in on herself.  “My name is Erebos.”

Ember couldn’t speak.  Her voice was caught in her throat as he stepped forward, his shadow leaping and jerking like a sentient being, springing up with more liveliness as it drew closer to Ember.  “How is your shoulder?” he was now right above her, looking down at her with his mouth a straight line, a deadness to his face.  And his eyes were completely black, no iris, no sclera.  Just two orbs of swirling darkness.  

Ember finally found her voice.  “It hurts,” she muttered, glancing over at her shoulder.  It was healed, but there was still a soreness to it that made her cringe.  

Erebos turned back to Elijah whose face went pale as the God of Darkness’ eyes landed on him.  “Was impaling the girl really necessary, Elijah?”

“I figured it would be the easiest way to take her.”

“Are you telling me that if you hadn’t, this scrawny girl would have overpowered you?”

Elijah’s lips drew a flatline.  “I supposed you wouldn't have wanted me to take chances.  We healed her afterwards, so I thought-”

“Elijah, where is my son.”  Erebos was now stepping towards the son of Boreas.  “Where is Khalcifer.  He was supposed to return after you once the attack was executed.”

Elijah hesitated, looking down.  “I don’t know, My Lord.”

My Lord.  Was Elijah this guy’s bitch?  Erebos stopped in front of Elijah, and Ember could see the uneasiness behind Elijah’s grey eyes, but he hid it well.  She was just looking for it.  And she was sure Erebos was as well, because a smile twitched at the edge of his lips, the smallest little smirk before it was gone again.  

“You let my son get captured, Elijah.”

Elijah’s timidness melted away with a spark of anger that washed over his face.  Erebos saw it to, and he narrowed his eyes.  “I figured a son of Erebos would have been able to watch his own back,” Elijah said cooly.  “Unless your bloodline isn’t as strong as you make it out to be.”

Erebos’ hand flung out towards Elijah.  His fingers grasped around the son of Boreas’ throat and Elijah gagged, his hands tearing at Erebos’ fists as he squeezed his throat.  Black lines stretched out across his skin from where Erebos’ fingers clutched his flesh and Erebos tilted his head.  “Are you doubting my power, Elijah?”  Elijah didn’t answer.  He couldn’t answer.  His feet kicked at the air as he gasped for breath, his grey eyes widening in a panic.  Then ice began to crawl up along Erebos’ hands and the God of Darkness snarled, throwing Elijah to the ground and the boy’s head cracked on the stone below them.  

Erebos didn’t have to say anything.  He didn’t have to threaten Elijah into not using his powers against him.  He had made his point.  Elijah remained on the ground, his hands over his head until Erebos said, a dark edge to his tone, “Stand.”  Elijah stood up, his eyes to the ground.  The defiance was now gone from the son of Boreas, and he was suddenly back to being Erebos’ little bitch.  “Now stand by the wall, and be silent.”  Elijah gave a nod and retreated until his back hit the wall, and he stood straight and stoic, his face again a mask of emotions.  

Erebos turned back to Ember who had been frozen during the fight. “My apologies, Ember,” Erebos said.  He waved his hand, and the magic that bound Ember down faded away and she groaned, sitting up and rubbed at her wrists, looking back up at Erebos.  “I didn’t mean for your journey here to be so uncomfortable.”

“What am I doing here?” Ember asked, trying to put as much confidence into her voice as she could.  “Why did you take me?  Why did you attack Camp Half-Blood?”

“I sent my son and Elijah to attack Camp Half-Blood so that they would be able to bring you here.  A distraction.”  Erebos was pacing around her like a vulture, his black eyes gazing at her, analyzing her and she felt a chill slip under her skin.  

“Why?  Why me?”

“Because you have the Blood of Hecate.”  He stopped in front of Ember, towering above her.  His shadow flicked out towards hers and as soon as his darkness touched hers, a sickness washed over her and she groaned, doubling over her.  “I have collected many of your sisters.”  Ember brought her eyes up and they widened with shock.  She had sisters.  “None of them were strong enough.  So we...disposed of them.”

“You mean killed.”  

He shook his head.  “No.  They’re not dead.  They’re all here.”

“Let me see them.”

“No.  As I was saying, I need your blood for a very important ritual.  And once the ritual has been completed, we will set you free.”

“That had better not be some cryptic way to say that you’ll me after you’re done with this ritual.  Because if that’s the case here, you can go-”

Elijah coughed from where he stood, a daring move considering what he had been through, but Ember got the point and she swallowed what she was about to say, but she continued to glare at Erebos as he raised a brow.  “This ritual will not happen today.  I have to be sure that you are powerful enough.  I don’t want to waste valuable time and power.  I will conduct the test on you tomorrow.”  He looked over at Elijah who straightened.  “Take her to her room.”  The son of Boreas gave an obedient nod and Erebos turned his gaze over to Ember.  They were hard, and cold, gazing at her like she was a valuable tool.  “Don’t be afraid, Ember.  You are about to be used to do something amazing, to awaken a power that hasn’t been seen in millenias.  You are the key player in the awakening.”  Erebos spread out his arms, like they were wings and he was about to fly and he closed his eyes, his flesh and clothes melting into a shadow that rippled and jerked, twining in the air like liquid before slapping onto the ground and slid along the ground to the tunnel and he was gone.  

Elijah finally moved then, cringing and he slowly knelt down, his eyes scrunched up in pain as he rubbed at his neck which was covered in dark, purple bruises.  “Gods,” he whispered, taking a deep breath and he glared up at Ember.  “So you can tell him to go fuck himself and you get off scott free.  I doubt his strength and he tries to strangle me.  Of course.”

“A lot of people want to strangle you,” Ember said, standing up and crossed over to him, kneeling down in front of him to examine his neck.  “You’re lucky he didn’t kill you.”

“Eh, I’m still pretty useful to him.”  Elijah blinked and hesitated.  “Or...at least I used to be.  But now that the Camp knows about me...” he gave a shrug.  “I guess I’m not anymore.  Doesn’t matter.”  He stood up and gestured down a tunnel that went off into darkness.  “Come on.”  

Ember followed Elijah towards the tunnel.  As they reached the darkness, she flicked her hand and green light danced along her fingertips, lighting up the room in a viridescent hue, like a beam of light shining through a jade.  Elijah looked back at Ember, his eyes narrowed.  “Green flame,” he ventured, the verdant light reflecting in his grey eyes.  “It must be your magic.”

“What do you mean?” Ember asked, keeping close to him.  She didn’t like these tunnels.

Elijah shrugged.  “Well, a child of Hephaestus can control natural fire.  A child of Hecate...I don’t think your fire is real.”  He brought his hand close to her fingertips and stopped about an inch away from the flames before retracting them.  “I mean, it’s hot like a real flame but I think it’s more of an illusion.”  He hesitated.  “Your mother is the goddess of the Mist.”

“What’s that?”

“Oh my Gods,” he gave a dry smile and a roll of his eyes as he shook his head.  “That...is for another time.  Let’s just say you have a lot of catching up to do when it comes to the Immortal world.”  They came to a twisting set of stairs that curled upwards and he breathed, looking back at her. “More stairs than the Eiffel Tower.  You ready?”

“Want to race?”

“Not really.”  

Ember chuckled and followed after Elijah as they started upwards.  The Shadowspire must be a huge tower.  She underestimated how long they were climbing because as the thousandth step passed, she could definitely feel the exhaustion wearing in and she breathed, running a hand along her sweaty forehead.  She didn’t know she could miss a cool breeze so much. The air here was stuffy and dry and with this much walking, she was becoming exhausted.  She didn’t complain though, she just followed Elijah up who hopped up the steps like a mountain goat.  Fortunately being around him was cooling her off, as his body was a natural air conditioner, making her feel cool and fresh.  

They reached the top, and the stairs opened up to a long hallway with doors on either side.  Jagged little tables dotted the hall and dark paintings of shadows and blackness were hung up on the walls, a dark red, long carpet lining the hall’s floor.  “This is where the guests to the Shadowspire stay,” Elijah said, leading her down the hall.  He stopped at a door and opened it up, gesturing inside.  “This one is yours.”

Ember hesitated and stepped through and into the middle of the room.  It wasn’t what she expected.  She had thought she would end up in a cell but this was actually very nice.  There was a closed window, which allowed a stormy, red light to flood into the room.  Her bed was pressed up beside the door against the wall, draped with a silky, red blanket and a dresser in the corner, and sitting beside it a large, oval mirror propped up on a stand.  “It’s nicer than I thought it would be,” Ember admitted, turning around to face Elijah who chuckled, leaning against the open door, his arms folded.

“Mine isn’t nearly as nice.  But trust me, there are far worse places you can be staying.”  He nodded at the bed.  “You should probably get some sleep.  You have a long day tomorrow.”

“I’m guessing I won’t be able to leave?”

Elijah snorted.  He didn’t even bother to answer the question, and she didn’t need him to.  She already knew.  “Sleep well.”  He left her at that, closing the door and she could hear the  _ click  _ of a lock behind him as he left.  What kind of guest room locks them from the inside?  Maybe it was just this room specifically. 

Ember immediately crossed the room to the window.  Maybe there was a way she could sneak out through here.  But when she got to the window, she froze.  She had thought that the red light was coming from a sunset sky, with streaks of red and orange.  But there was no sky here.  She was underground, in a massive, huge cave that spanned out further than she could see.  The top was riddled with storming clouds, red flashes of lightning streaking through the darkness which lit up the cave.

She could see in the distance a sea of blood, and an island in the center.  That island seemed to be the only place of joy in this cave, covered in green that she could only imagine was grass.  She missed the feeling of grass between her toes.  But everywhere else was...dark.  A huge field going for miles to her left.  She must have been in the Underworld.  The description that the others at camp gave her seemed to fit it perfectly.  The fields...those must have been the Fields of Asphodel.  And the Island...Isles of the Blessed.  It looked so beautiful from here.

There was a crack from beneath and her gaze drifted downwards and she swallowed.  Right at the base of the tower was a massive chasm which spread off to her right, like a massive tear in the ground and below, she could see flashes of dark, red light.  Evil seemed to seep up from the crack in the earth and she took a step back, giving a breath.  Tartarus.  

She swore, backing away from the window quickly, her green eyes narrowed.  She’d heard enough about Tartarus to know to not even look at it.  The ultimate place of evil, and the Shadowspire was right on the border.  She wondered what the tower looked like from the outside.  Despite it housing Erebos and other creatures of darkness, she was sure that it was a wonder to look at.  She imagined it being tall, jagged and black,  like the castle in The Black Cauldron.  Why were all evil buildings so typically evil looking?  

She crossed to her wardrobe, opening it up and gazed inside.  There was everything she needed here.  Some pants, night gowns, shirts, dresses...of course, everything was black but at least that was Ember’s kind of style.  She changed out of her dirty clothes and slid into the soft night gown, straightening it and brushing her hand over all the wrinkles.  It was surprisingly comfortable.  And now, to test the bed to make sure it was adequate.  And to her surprise, it was a very comfy, fluffy bed.

“I hope it works for you.”  

She hadn’t heard the guy come in, and it startled her.  But somehow, the songline tone of his voice, the quietness of it, made the fear slip away.  Ember spun around, facing the newcomer, and her jaw instantly dropped.  He was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen.  And this includes all actors and stars and musicians she has ever fangirled about.  And he wasn’t even her type.  He was pale and tall, his structured muscles visible through his black shirt.  A dark bag was slung over his shoulder.  He had wavy blonde hair, perfect and golden and his blue eyes glittered with tints of red from the scarlet light from outside.  She couldn’t stop staring.  His beauty was inhuman.

“Are you a god?” she managed to ask and the guy raised a brow and gave a warm laugh that made the edginess in her body dissipate.  

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said with a grin, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.  “But no.  My name is Shayne.”  Shayne.  He couldn’t have been much older than Ember, nineteen or twenty.  He had the body of a warrior, well muscled and lean, and he was tall.  Very tall, almost as tall as Mikhail.  “And you must be Ember,” he put out his hand and numbly, Ember took it.  His hand was smooth and warm.  

“Yeah,” she replied, barely able to get out the one word she was so tongue tied.  Man, he was gorgeous.  

“I thought you might want these.”  He crossed the room, sitting down on his bed and slung his bag off, placing it in his lap.  First, he pulled out a couple bottles of water and Ember breathed, grabbing one quickly and uncapped it, downing half of the bottle before she could even thank him.  Finally, she drew the bottle away and wiped a drop of water from the edge of her lip.  

“Thank you,” she breathed and Shayne smiled.

“No problem.”  He pulled out a candle and a match.  “I figured you might want some light that didn’t come from the Underworld.  You can always close the blinds if you don’t want to look at it anymore.”  He fished around in his bag for a moment more before he breathed, pulling out a dagger.  “Here,” he said, handing the blade to her.  

It was a gorgeous looking dagger, and it looked dangerous.  The blade itself was black, which was different from the other bronze weapons she had seen, twisted and curvy with a jaggedness to one edge that was designed to shred.  The crossguards were the heads of snakes and the handle fit perfectly in her hand.  “It’s too small for me,” Shayne explained, catching the confused look on her face.  He ran a finger along the edge of the blade.  “Stygian ice.  It’s made from one of the rivers here in the Underworld, and is more dangerous than Celestial Bronze...you should keep it close.  There are things here that can hurt you.”

“Why are you doing this, Shayne?” Ember asked.  By now she was (almost) over how unbelievably hot he was,  and was finally getting to the fact that he was still here, in the Shadowspire.  He worked here.

Shayne narrowed his eyes, a darkness flooding into his eyes, as if he was reminded of something terrible and he looked away, gritting his teeth.  “The same reason you are,” he said finally, standing up.  “I’m to do something...great.”  That was all he said.  The bitterness slipped off of his face as quickly as it appeared and he took her hand again, and she blushed at the warmth of it.  “Listen to me,” he said quietly.  “I’m your only friend here.  Everything that breathes here wants to kill you.  Just...listen to me and trust me, all right?”

Ember wanted to.  Ember wanted to trust this man.  He was so kind and so good and so attractive.  But there was something pawing at her, telling her to be careful.  But she nodded.  “I trust you.”  She hesitated.  “What are you?” she asked.  “I know you’re not a human, so...I mean are you like me?”

Shayne smiled softly.  “Yes,” he said.  “I’m like you.  I’m a demigod.”

“Who’s your parent?  Aphrodite?”

Shayne grinned and shook his head.  “Close.  Eros.”

Ember raised a brow.  “The Greek God of sex, beauty and love?  I should have guessed.”

Shayne laughed.  “It’s not a bad thing, I promise.  It can definitely come in handy when you need to do some...convincing.”  Shayne stood up, backing up towards the door.  He looked over at her once more, his eyes twinkling with a kindness that Ember had not yet seen in the Shadowspire.  She rarely even sees it in the eyes of her best friend...it made her feel good.  “I’ll be checking up on you.  Be safe, Ember.”  And he closed the door, leaving her alone.  

Ember breathed, grabbing the water bottle and she downed the rest, closing her eyes.  When she finished, the lap drop sliding down the back of her throat she stood up, crossing the room to the window and she leaned out, looking down into Tartarus.  Shayne...she could tell that he was going to be a very important person to her.  A blush rose up on her cheeks.  He was so...beautiful.  Yeah, it was pretty gay to call a guy beautiful but that was the only word she could think of.  He was beautiful, and not even like a pretty boy, like a kind of beautiful that made you swell up in pleasure just looking at him, and he gave you a look that made you think you were the most important person in the world.  She dropped her bottle and watched it with her green eyes as it fell down into Tartarus, disappearing. 

She waited a second for a monster to come up and eat her, but it never happened and she smirked, going to her bed and she fell down onto the covers, closing her eyes.  She had been so afraid before.  To be in such a horrible, evil place, with Erebos planning something for her that made her nervous.  But now...she wasn’t afraid.  And she knew it was because of that blonde boy.  As long as Shayne was close, she knew she would be okay.  

 


	21. Hecate's Elements

Ember was awakened by a hand on her shoulder.  She yawned and rolled over, blinking sleepily and she scowled as Elijah’s face came into view, a frown on his face as he watched her from above, black hair draping down around his face.  “Did you know you drool when you sleep?” he asked with a cock of his head and he grinned when Ember pushed him away.  “I’ll take that as a no.”

“Shut up,” Ember muttered, sitting up and she stretched, giving a moan and she looked back over at Elijah.  “What do you want, Crawley?”

“Erebos wants you.”

The God of Shadow’s name sent a chill down Ember’s spine, but she kept her face devoid of emotion, except for the glare that she kept resting readily on Elijah’s face.  “For what?”

“For training.  So...you know, get dressed and meet me outside your room.”  The smallest blush settled on his cheeks as he quickly stepped away from her bed and slid outside, closing the door behind him.  Ember sighed, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed as she rubbed her eyes.  It was hard for her to tell what time it was, there was no natural light from the sun in the Underworld, so she couldn’t tell if it was the middle of the night or afternoon.  She could only assume that it was morning, though.  

She crossed to her wardrobe and opened it, going through the clothes with a frown.  She didn’t know what kind of training this would involve.  It might be physical, he could be testing her combat prowess and strength, but it might also just end up being focusing her magical energies and seeing what she could conjure.  She ended up pulling on some black jeans and a dark tan top, sliding into some black sandals.  At least now she would be able to move around.  He faced herself in the mirror, gazing at herself.  She looked exhausted, her hair a matty mess.  A brush rested on the small table in front of the mirror and she glided it through her hair for a minute before going to her door and she yanked on the handle.  Locked.

She gave a sigh and pounded on the door.  “Elijah!  It’s locked.”

“Oh, right!” Came his voice from outside, and he opened it quickly for her.  “Forgot about that, sorry.”  He nodded for her to follow and she stuck close to him as they went towards the long stairs that went downwards. 

“So what kind of training is this going to be?” she asked suspiciously, keeping up with him.  Going down the steps was far easier than going up them and Elijah gave a shrug. 

“He’s not going to be attacking you with weapons, if that’s what you’re wondering.”  He was moving fast and Ember had to focus more on not taking a wrong step and toppling down a thousand and seven hundred steps to the bottom of the tower.  “He’s probably just going to be testing your willpower.”  He hesitated and looked down at her.  “You have to pass this test.”

“And what if I don’t?”

“You’ll end up like all the other girls.”

“What are you talking about?  What does he do to them?”

“You’ll see.  He’s going to show you a...demonstration.  As an incentive to not fail.”  

Ember put a hand on Elijah’s shoulder, spinning him around.  The son of Boreas nearly lost his balance and toppled down the stairs and he sent her up a glare.  “What?” he spat and Ember crossed her arms.  

“I’m about to go into this.  You’re the one who brought me here.  I need to know what he will do to me if I can’t do it.”

“What, so you can run away?”  Ember must have made a face because Elijah shook his head.  “It won’t work.  You won’t be able to run away.”

“Why not?  It’s a big palace, and no one is even watching me.”

“You’re always being watched.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

He gestured around.  “Erebos is darkness.  He is...every darkness.  The darkness of shadows in corners, the darkness in holes, the darkness inside you.  The only kind of darkness he doesn’t control is that of Night, as that’s Nyx’s forte.  He’s walking you at all times.”

“That’s great.”

Elijah chuckled.  “And now you see why I’m not too keen to go against him.  Now come on.  He’ll probably be pissed that we’re just standing around talking.  This test is of the ‘utmost importance.’”  He quoted it with his fingers, a smile lingering on his lips and he started down the stairs again, keeping his hand on the rail.  Five minutes of running he stopped and Ember breathed, looking over at him.

“Can’t you just like, turn the stairs to ice and we can slide down it?”

“That shit is only possible in Disney movies,” he muttered.  “Besides, I use my ice for killing, not sliding.”

“Why not both?”

When Elijah turned away, Ember could tell that he was done talking and she gave an evil smile but followed behind silently.  She would have died to be able to slide down the twisting staircase on ice.  Sure she would probably have a really bad burn but it would still definitely be worth it.  Was Elijah lying about not being able to do it?  He would just have to make sure it would be slippery enough.  

They reached the bottom of the stairs and she expected for Elijah to lead her to the throne room, but he changed direction, going the opposite way.  Ember kept close to him, and the further they walked, the more she was craving his presence.  Without Shayne around, and without her fire, being lead by the dark flames that burned on torch sconces, she felt completely alone in the darkness.  Elijah wasn’t really much of a comforter, but he was something.  

The halls were a lot like the one at the top of the tower.  They had a royal feel to them, adorned with paintings and carvings that decorated the walls and they walked along dark carpets of blood red.  They were wide, able to fit five people across.  

Eventually, a smell began to reach her nose.  It was rancid, gross, and she knew exactly what it was.  The smell of rotting meat.  She gagged, putting a hand up to her mouth to not puke and her eyes watered against the smell.  She wanted to ask what it was, but to be honest, she didn’t want to know.  And they were getting closer to it, the smell becoming more and more malodorous.  

They were about to come to a turn when Elijah whipped his hand out, stopping Ember from continuing forward.  By now, she knew better than to speak, especially by the way his body tensed up as he looked ahead.  There was a corner ahead, and she couldn’t see anything...but she could hear.  Hisses.

“Ember,” Elijah whipsered, his voice low.  “Stay close to me.  Don’t talk.”  

Ember nodded and Elijah continued ahead, but Ember could see frost beginning to cover the skin of his hand.  He was ready to attack if need be.  

They turned the corner and Ember had to stifle a scream.  There was a beast in front of them, it looked almost like a dragon, but it had multiple heads.  A quick count and she saw that it had five heads.  Each one had a massive chain tightened around its throat, connected to a collar at the base of its necks.  And the chain was held by a figure that leaned against the wall.  Ember couldn’t see her face, she wore a veil that covered her head, except for her lips which were curved into a cruel smile.

And the dragon, the hydra, it was feeding.  She could instantly see that it was an oneiroi, mauled and in pieces, its wings torn and its head gone and the hydras were hissing at one another, fighting over the remaining meat with snarls and snaps at one another.

“Share, my sweets,” hissed the woman, a forked tongue flicking out of her mouth momentarily before snaking back inside.  Her skin was a dark red, scaly like that of a serpent.  Her tongue flicked out again, more violently and quickly and her head snapped over to Elijah and Ember as she approached, the smile widening on her face.  “Elijah,” she purred, approaching the two and Elijah stiffened as the woman came to them, placing her clawed hand on his shoulder.  “You’ve come back!  I missed you.”

“Let us pass, Euryale,” Elijah said, his face hard as he looked up at the woman.  She was taller than him, most people were.   

“Without saying hello?”  Euryale shook her head, a hiss coming from her...but it wasn’t issued through her lips.  Euryale...she was a gorgon.  Ember narrowed her eyes and now she could see the writhing wriggles from beneath her veil.  

“Where are your sisters?”

“They’re doing what Lord Erebos commanded them to do.”

“Can you handle the hydra on your own?”  The hydra looked up from its meal as if it heard its name, and Ember’s heart dropped.  The thing was terrifying but it looked...sad.  Its ribs were shown through its stretched out skin and there was a wild, hungry look in its eyes, like that of a feral animal.  And it smelled her.  All of the mouths opened in a hiss, rotten meat dropping from the jaws of one head and it crept forward, bent over like it was going to pounce.  “Euryale,” Elijah warned, stepping in front of Ember.

Euryale then noticed Ember, and she cocked her head questioningly and spun around.  She spoke in a tongue that Ember couldn’t understand, but it was serpentine, the words slipping from between her red lips in hisses and the Hydra snarled but retreated backwards, one of the heads grabbing the carcass and dragging it backwards with it.

“What is your name?” she hissed, her hand going out and grabbing Ember’s.  Her hands were scaly and cold, her claws gripping hard into her skin and Ember wrenched her hand out of the gorgon’s grasp.  

“Ember.”

Euryale gave a sharp hiss and looked down at Elijah.  “So this is Hecate’s blood,” she ventured.  She drew her veil partially off and Ember swallowed as tiny red snakes slowly rose, snapping at each other in hisses, then turning their attention to Ember.  They reached forward, their tongues lapping out to lick her experimentally before retreating, hissing and snapping.  

“Yes,” Elijah said, his voice firm.  “Which means she’s not to be harmed.”

“How disappointing,” Euryale sighed.  “Isti’Zaar grows hungry and he cannot survive on eating the bodies of bats,” she looked down at her precious pet which had one clawed paw on the corpse as its head tore away at its tattered, rotten flesh.  “He could be so much stronger.”

“He’s going to have to make do.  Now let us pass.”  

Euryale gave a sharp breath.  “So rude,” she gave a hiss before crossing over beside her Hydra.  He gave her a growl as she approached, but seemed to melt into her touch as her hand stroked lovingly over one of its necks and it went back to eating.  As Ember and Elijah passed, Ember kept as close to the other wall as possible, and all ten eyes made contact with hers as they continued forward.  She didn’t breathe until they turned the corner at the end of the hall, leaving the two monsters behind.

“Euryale and Isti’Zaar,” Elijah muttered.  “Two of the most dangerous creatures here.  You’re lucky she was feeling merciful.  Even under direct order of Erebos to keep you alive, I wouldn’t be surprised if she fed you to her pet.”  

“Pet,” Ember muttered.  “That thing is a prisoner.”

“It doesn’t mind.  It’s the only thing it knows.”  

“You’re their pet.”

Elijah jerked and glared at her.  Not very effective, considering he was her height, maybe even a little shorter.  “I’m not anyone’s pet.”  

“Fine, then you’re their bitch.”  

Elijah’s fists clenched and Ember watched as ice began to creep up his fingers.  “I am not their bitch,” Elijah said coolly, trying to keep his temper.  “I am willingly here to serve Erebos and his cause.  I am here to take down the Gods and Camp Half-Blood for what they have done to me.  They control me but I follow them for a cause that I believe in.  Now shut up and follow me.”  

Ember did as he said.  Mainly because she didn’t want to be impaled again and she kept her eyes down to the ground as she followed close behind Elijah, her eyes flicking up at him every once in a while and slowly the ice that had gathered on his hands began to melt away, the hardness of his jaw softening.  But she still kept quiet.  She didn’t want to test him and end up getting killed.  

But she wasn’t sure if he would kill her even if she pushed him beyond his limits.  Sure, Elijah was an asshole, but she knew there was good in him. Helping Nathan when he ran into that tree.  Warning her against infuriating Erebos and Euryale...of course, he could always just be protecting her so that Erebos can use her for this ritual, but she liked to think that that wasn’t the case.  

They came to a heavy, stone door that sat at the end of the hall.  A large pentagram was carved into the stonework with a pair of crossing, twin torches in the center, flames alit at the ends and flaming braziers on either side of the door.  “Here it is,” Elijah muttered as they came to a stop.  “This is the training room...” he looked down at her, his eyes narrowed.  “Are you ready?”

Ember took a deep breath.  “Yeah.  Let’s do this.”  

Elijah nodded and pushed open the doors.  The room was small, much smaller than the throne room but big enough to do some magic.  A large pentagram was carved into the ground, and point of the pentagram besides the top point had something resting on the edge.  One had a brazier of fire that flickered dimly.  Another had a bowl of water.  The third, a small pile of rocks.  And the fourth had a fan.  The room was lit by braziers that sat in every corner, red flames flickering and leaping.  Erebos stood in the center of the room, his long, black robe going down to the ground and he faced away from them, his arms folded as if he was examining the wall.  He turned as they entered and he waved Ember forward.  “Ember.  Come here.”  His gaze went to Elijah and his black eyes went hard.  “Leave us.”  

Ember met Elijah’s eyes and he mouthed, ‘you can do it,’ before closing the door behind him, leaving her alone with Erebos.  She took a shuddering breath and stepped forward, her mind buzzing as she approached Erebos.  His shadow leaped towards her and she sucked in a breath as it struck hers, a feeling of weakness and despair washing over her as she stepped closer to Erebos.  

“I hope your room is suitable,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder as she stepped next to him.

“It’s fine.”

“Ember, how many elements can you manipulate?”

Getting right to the point, then.  Ember hesitated.  Should she lie?  He might end up testing her on it and get angry that she wasn’t telling the truth...and if she tells him that fire is the only element, he might end up getting rid of her here and now.  But she decided to play it safe.  “I...I can only manipulate fire.  But I’m a really fast learner.”

“Did you learn how to control fire on your own?”

Ember nodded.  

Erebos rubbed at his jaw, examining her and he placed both of his hands on her shoulders.  “Stand here,” he redirected her into the center of the pentagram.  Almost immediately, a rush of power flooded into her and under her veins, like it was shooting through her bloodstream.  It was scary.  

“What is this?” she asked, looking down at her fingertips.  Fire sparked up along her skin, far faster than what she had been able to do before.

“The pentagram is your mother’s sacred symbol.  When you stand in the center, it focuses your magic.  You can feel it, can’t you.”  Ember nodded.  “Show me your fire.”

Ember chewed on her lip and turned to face the brazier of fire that burned at one corner of the pentagram.  With all of this magic flowing through her, it was easy to lift the flames upwards, having them dance up towards the ceiling and she whipped it around her head several times, and it grew more and more easy as she manipulated it.  She returned it to the brazier as Erebos waved his hand and she moved it back into the brazier.  

“Next we will work on water,” he gestured towards the pot of water.

“I can’t manipulate water.  I don’t know how.”

“Try.”

Ember didn’t know the punishment for failure, but from how Elijah acted, she could only guess that it wasn’t good.  So she took a breath and faced the water.  To control fire, she thought of her anger.  She thought of her fears.  Water...it flowed.  It was powerful.  So maybe she had to think the same way.  Opposite of the fire, she let her fears and anger slip away with the tide, with the river that sliced through the Earth.  She released her frustration into the element and when she raised her hand, the water in the bowl slowly lifted.  But her concentration was wavering and droplets of water began to splash down into the bowl.

No.  She couldn’t afford to fail.  She held her concentration and breathed, raising her hand and the water ascended, compacting into an orb.  She was doing it.  Manipulating water.  

They went through the elements, and after a bit of tinkering around with each, she discovered that each had a secret in order to be controlled.  Earth, she had to focus on what she believed in.  What kept her down to Earth and fighting.  Air, she had to focus on her dreams.  What she wanted in life.  What she wanted with herself and Nathan.   

“Good,” Erebos said, watching her with a light in his eyes.  “Now, Shadow and Light.”

“Shadow and light?” Ember asked, the current of air fading away and the fan’s blades spun a little before coming to a hold.  “I have to be able to control those, too?”

Erebos nodded.  “Yes.  Fire, earth, water, air, shadow and light are the world’s six main elements.  You must be able to control them all.”

Ember hesitated.  “I suppose you can’t give me a few pointers with shadow?”

Erebos smirked.  “Fear.  Fear and darkness go together like nothing else.”

“You sound like Pitch,” she muttered, and from Erebos’ raised brow, she guessed he had no idea what she was talking about.  People around here really need to get into Disney.  She breathed and closed her eyes, watching one of the corners where darkness fluttered in Erebos’ presence . Fear.  What scared her the most.  What made her afraid?

She imagined herself being closed in.  The world coming together and closing her in a hole, in a place where there was nothing but darkness, no light, nothing to keep her distracted.  Closed off and completely alone.  She felt a chill slip down her spine and she gritted her teeth, extending her fingers towards the darkness, and it rippled.  It writhed like a snake on the ground and slowly began to creep towards her.  She moved her hand towards the wall and it slapped up onto the bricks, festering and bubbling on the wall and she grinned.  She was manipulating shadow.  She released it and it snapped towards Erebos, flooding into his flesh and the God took a breath as he drew it in.  He loved it, the shadow, the darkness.  “And now,” he whispered.  “Light.  Do not ask me how to control it, I don’t know.”

But Ember already knew what she had to do to control light.  It’s what it made everyone feel when the sun was out, when it was warm and pleasant and good.  Happiness.  And she knew what to focus on.  On Nathan.  The two of them laughing, making fun of big lipped, fake breasted celebrities on TV.  Making Justin Bieber jokes.  Playing games with each other.  Light was very easy to control.  She had to focus on the things that brought her joy.  She extended her hand and light instantly flashed into her palm, lighting up the entire room in white, pearly light.  Erebos dismissed the light very quickly.

“Good.  Now all of them at once.”

Ember froze and looked up at him with her jaw open.  “All of them at once?” 

“Yes.”

Ember bit her tongue to keep herself from saying that she can’t and she turned to the flames.  It was easy to focus on them one at a time.  But how could you think of your greatest fear and the thing that makes you happy all at once?  If he was asking her to do it, it must be possible.  She took a breath and focused on her anger and the fire easily flew up from the brazier and into her palm.  Now, water.  She turned to it and she breathed, closing her eyes.  How was she going to do this.  Water was about letting her anger go...but she had to keep it.  She imagined her anger flushing out of her and circling around her, surrounding her and yet not touching her, and that is exactly what the water did.  It rose up from the bowl and began to whip around her in circles, over, and over. 

Earth.  She turned to the rocks and still focusing on her anger, letting it go and drawing it forward, she focused on Nathan.  How she felt that it was her duty to keep him safe.  To keep him from drawing in on himself and being depressed and angry his entire life.  The pebbles snapped towards her other palm and began to twirl around her fingers.  Her concentration was wearing thin.  Droplets of water was beginning to splash down onto the brick.  No, she had to keep going.  She closed her eyes, focusing on the future, and her anger and Nathan, she focused on leaving Camp Half-Blood and traveling the world, with her best friend of course.  

A cyclone of air began to billow around them, ruffling their hair and Erebos’ rose fluttered in the wind that now entwined them.  The physical elements were done...now for shadow, and light.  Shadow was easy.  She was terrified of what would happen if she wasn’t able to manipulate the elements and the shadows flooded to her as her nerves began to become unsettled.  Now the shadow was shakily circling them, jerking as she struggled to maintain control.  And now, light.  She had to focus very hard on this.  On light, on happiness.  

She thought of the last day everything was normal.  When Mrs. Wilson came home and Nathan stole that twix bar intent on eating it, and how Ember had told him that she was eating it with him.  She thought of watching him, scared and panicked on the plane, and yet thinking about how cute he was.  She thought of the good times she had with her best friend, how happy he made her when they could just relax and enjoy each other’s company.  

Light glowed onto her skin, growing brighter and brighter until it was illuminating the entire room.  Erebos put a hand over his eyes, watching as she glowed and she could see the surprise and shock.  

When she couldn’t hold it anymore she let them drop, the fire going out as the water splashed down, the pebbles landing in the rock and the light and shadow dissipated.  She was panting, sweat dripping down her face as she watched the ground.  Clapping made her draw her eyes up to Erebos who clapped his hands together, watching her with pride.  “That was very impressive,” he said coolly, a dark smile twitching at his lips.  “There is only one thing left.  I want you to control the m-”

The door burst open and an oneiroi sprang into the room.  It looked different from the others.  More animalistic, its human features barely defined, more bat and beast like than human.  “Sire,” he snarled.  “News.  We must speak now.”  

“What is it, Vrayze?” Erebos growled.  “You know that this is important.”

“So is this.”

Erebos narrowed his eyes and looked to Ember.  “Go back to your chambers.  We will continue this tomorrow.”  And he left, following the oneiroi from the room and they disappeared into darkness.  

Still shaky, Ember stepped into the hallway.  Elijah was pacing, and she could only assume that he had been for a while, and when he looked up at her, relief flooded onto his face as he walked up to her.  “Hey,” he breathed, putting a hand on her shoulder.  He examined her with a frown.  “What did he say?  Could you do it?”

“I did everything, I controlled fire, water, earth, air, shadow and light.  There is just one more thing that I need to control.”

“The Mist...” Elijah muttered and he rubbed his face.  “That’s the hardest one.”  He looked up at her, his eyes narrowed.  “You don’t know what that is, do you.”

“I’ve heard it mentioned, but I don’t know how to control it.”

Elijah nodded.  “You won’t be able to then.”  He hesitated.  “You need to learn how control it.”

“But how?  I never have, and I don’t know how.”

“Someone else here does.  A girl who used to go to Camp.  She was able to control the Mist...she has to be able to teach you.  If she can't, if you can’t control the mist, you won’t be of any use to Erebos, and what he’ll do to you...well.  Let’s just say a lot of girls would rather jump out that window of yours.”

Ember swallowed.  “Okay.  Let’s go find this girl.”


	22. Demigods Against Humanity

Nathan knew that he should probably go to sleep.  The road ahead was going to be long and hard, and he wouldn’t have a lot of opportunities to sleep.  But he couldn’t.  He was too focused on Ember.  Wondering where she was, and if she was okay.  Thinking about the Underworld, and how lost he will be...he still couldn’t believe they were entrusting him to guide Zack and Mason through a place that he has never even been before.

Similar worries plagued his mind, and the son of Hades knew that he would get no sleep tonight.  He groaned, sitting up in his bed and he rubbed at his face, looking up at the statue of Hades that loomed over him.  Just because he was a son of Hades, he doubted he would just magically obtain the power to be able to maneuver perfectly through the Underworld.  He would probably maneuver them into the jaws of a monster, but that was about it.  

A run sun rose, and cerise light shone in beams through his window.  It reflected in something underneath his bed and he looked down at the blade that he had gotten which rested on the floor, glittering gold in the light.  He leaned over, grasping the hilt and pulled it up onto his bed, gazing at it.  He hadn’t really worked with the blade much.  The only time he had used it was against Khalcifer, the oneiroi and Catherine.  He hadn’t taken the time to really clean it off and look at it.  He might as well do it now before he goes on a quest where he was probably going to have to use it a lot.  

He brought it up to his lap, grasping it by its tip and the pommel as he turned it.  The blade was leaf shaped, like any other xiphos, and it had obviously been through a lot.  The blade, although beautiful, was scratched and dented, rust creeping up along one of the edges.  Any other camper would have discarded it.  But there was something about it that drew Nathan to it.  There was something that seemed powerful about it.  The pommel was wrapped in leather, the hilt adorned in golden studs.  He drew his thumb over the blade, feeling every dent, but as he moved his finger over the edge, cringing as blood blossomed on his finger.

“It’s still sharp,” he muttered to himself, wiping his finger along his dark shirt.  “Even after all this time.”  He gazed at the blade, examining it until someone pounded on his door.  From the obnoxious way the pounding continued on and on told Nathan that it was probably Zack.  He groaned, standing up and he crossed to the door, thrusting it open.  Zack immediately saw the blade and his eyes widened, retracting his hand, giving a nervous smile.

“Good morning!” he said cheerfully.  He looked like he was ready to go.  A backpack was slung over his shoulder, as well as his bow and a quiver of arrows.  “You packed?”

“Not yet.”  Nathan hesitated, looking up at Zack.  “Have you ever been on a quest?”

“Yeah.”

“What should I pack?”

Zack smiled softly, moving into the cabin and Nathan tried to keep his bristling to a minimum as the guy began to walk around his room, looking at everything.  “Well, the sword, for one,” he said, nodding to the blade in Nathan’s hands.  He crossed to Nathan’s little chest and opened it up, gazing inside.  “You only have camp clothes?  Whatever, a couple pairs of these should be good.  Um, do you have any food?  Probably not, don’t worry, Mason and I packed enough.  It’s just, while we’re down in the Underworld we can’t eat anything, otherwise we’ll end up being trapped down there, so we have to bring all the food that we’ll need with us.”  

“What do you mean it will trap us down there?”

Zack shrugged.  “I don’t know.  It’s just an enchantment on the fruit.  Get dressed and meet us outside!”  And Zack was gone, ducking out of the cabin and into the sunlight.

Nathan breathed and crossed to his clothes, shrugging into worn out black shirt and dark jeans from when he first arrived.  He was running out of black clothes.  Because there was no way he was wearing that disgustingly vibrant orange shirt all the time.  He did as Zack said though and packed a few pairs into a black bag he had gotten from the camp store.  Mikhail had made him a scabbard for his blade a little while ago and Nathan hooked the blade at his side, making sure it was attached and firm before he made his way outside.  They were waking up early, so none of the other campers were up yet.  The only movement was towards the entrance that lead to the road and he picked his way across the camp towards it.

Catherine, Rose, Zack, Mason, Mikhail and Chiron stood next to a white bus that read Delphi Strawberry Service across the side.  That must have been the cover name for Camp.  He supposed Camp Half-Blood was a little obvious.

“There he is,” Catherine said, a scolding tone to her voice and Nathan rolled his eyes, walking up with his black bag slung over his shoulder.

“Here I am,” he muttered.  “We taking off now?”

“Give us a sec, Bones,” Zack said with a grin.  He shivered and turned around as Sabrina materialized behind him, a smile playing on her red lips as she stroked her finger up his spine.

“Leaving without saying goodbye?” she purred, and Zack grinned, leaning into a kiss as he wrapped his arms around her waist.  Nathan gagged, looking away.  He didn’t want to think about girls right now...besides, there was only one on his mind right now.  The thought made him clench his fist and grit his teeth.  He was still angry at himself.  She had been right there.  If he had been able to overpower Khalcifer, he could have been able to stop Elijah and save her.  

A hand was on his shoulder.  Nathan didn’t have to look anymore.  The firmness of a teacher but the softness of a friend.  Chiron.  

“It wasn’t your fault,” Chiron muttered, quiet enough for only Nathan to hear.  Did the centaur read his mind?  “And now you have the chance to get her back.”

“I don’t know if I can do it,” Nathan replied, speaking equally softly.  He didn’t want to alarm Mason and Zack and have them think he doesn’t know what he’s doing.  “I don’t know my way around the Underworld.”

“It will come naturally to you.  Just as how Rose can automatically move through the ocean with exact coordinates, and how Austin can fly through the skies and know his exact altitude.  It’s in your blood.  Just trust your instincts.”

“My instincts,” Nathan muttered and he sighed, rubbing his face, then shoved Chiron’s hand off.  “Thanks.”

“Nathan, are you ready?” Mason stood beside Catherine, wearing a Camp shirt and some jeans, his sword also hanging at his side and he watched Nathan with concern.  Mason could always tell how Nathan was feeling, and Nathan knew he probably wouldn’t be able to fool the guy with false confidence.  And Nathan was definitely not ready, but he still nodded and Mason looked up at the driver of their bus.  Nathan almost puked.  The guy was pretty disgusting.  He was covered in head from toe in eyes.  He could see the two main eyes, but after that, there were more, and more, covering his hand and his body.  Aside from that fact, the guy would have been pretty good looking, with blonde hair and blue eyes.  

“Don’t be afraid,” Rose whispered from Nathan’s side as Nathan began to twitch for his blade.  “Argus is a good guy.”

“He’s covered in eyeballs.”

“And that’s the weirdest thing you’ve seen so far?”

“Nathan, come on!”  Zack was hopping up onto the bus and Nathan breathed, looking up at Chiron once more who nodded encouragingly and the son of Hades breathed, climbing up the steps and to the bus.  Nathan and Mason were sitting in the middle across from each other, talking about something.  Nathan didn’t listen.  He didn’t care.  He walked passed the two towards the back of the bus and he plopped down at the last seat.  

He instantly folded in on himself, looking outside.  The bus began to move and the only pair of eyes he was able to catch were the dark, calculating eyes of Sabrina Amandine before the bus turned a corner and they were lost in the woods.  

The drive would take at least an hour and a half, so Nathan let himself relax, closing his eyes.  He was going to try to catch up on some sleep that he had missed during the night.  But every single time he began to doze off, Zack burst out laughing from his seat, or a chuckle from Mason and he was kept awake, swearing to himself that he would duck tape the son of Apollo’s mouth shut first chance he had.  

“Hey, Nathan!”  Zack called from his seat and Nathan turned, giving the guy an evil glare, but as always, it passed right through Zack and the guy didn’t even seem to notice.  “Come here!”

Nathan sighed, picking himself up and he began to make his way towards the two, hands on the seats to keep his balance as he got up close to them and he sat down in the seat behind Mason, glaring at Zack.  “What do you want?  I’ve been trying to sleep.”

“Sorry, I was just wondering if you wanted to play a game with us.”

Nathan frowned.  “What game?”

“Ever heard of Cards Against Humanity?”

“No.”

Zack chortled.  “You’ll like it.  Okay, it’s pretty much like Apples to Apples.  There’s a blank card.  An example would be...um,” he reached into his bag, pulling out a stack of black cards and he gazed at one of them, giving a grin.  “War!  What is it good for?  And then you would have seven white cards that have things on it that can fill in the blanks.  Like puberty, or pedophiles or penis envy or something like that.  One person is the ‘card czar’ which will be me the first round.  You and Mason choose the card you like the best to fill in the blanks and then I choose the card that sounds funniest.  Get it?”

“Yeah.”  

“Great!”

“I don’t want to play.”

“What?” Zack frowned, like he was genuinely sad.  “Why not?  It’s really fun.”

“It sounds really stupid.”

“Nathan, to be honest, he’ll probably just end up being ten times more obnoxious if he has nothing to keep him busy,” Mason muttered from in front of him, a smile playing at his lips.  “We might as well just play so that he’ll shut up.”  The offer made the game sound a lot more tempting and Nathan sighed and nodded.  Zack grinned and rushed seven cards into Nathan’s hand and he looked down at his neck, raising a brow.  Jew fros, homeless people, dying, taking off your shirt, white people, cuddling and God.  He and Mason looked at their cards for a second before Zack swiped a black card, grinned and read it aloud.  

“What will always get you laid?”

Nathan turned down to his cards.  They all sucked.  Cuddling was the most obvious, but it seemed too obvious.  He ended up picking jew fros, turning the card over and slid it over to Zack who grinned at him and looked back at Mason, who was looking at his cards with a disgruntled expression.  Finally he sighed, slapping a card over and slid it over to Zack, who collected it.  

“All right...What will always get you laid....jew fros?”  He looked up with a disgusted look.  “That’s a terrible card, jew fros are awful.”  He discarded the white card and Nathan gave a shrug.  Looking at Mason’s card, Zack gave a sharp laugh, a smile stretching across his face . “This is perfect.  Hulk Hogan.  Sure, if you have his muscles,” he gave the black card to Mason.  “There!  You have a point.”  He turned to Mason.  “You’re the card czar, now.”

Mason grabbed the card, putting it on the seat next to him and drew a black card from the stack on Zack’s lap.  “White people like _______.”

Nathan instantly knew what card he was going to play.  He grabbed his white people card and gave it to Mason, who looked up at him with a raised brow and slid it under his hand to keep himself from looking.  Zack gave him a card soon after and Mason shuffled the two cards for a moment so that he wouldn’t know which belonged to who and he read the first one.  “Justin Bieber,” he grinned, looking at the other card.  “And white people.  Gotta go with the second one.”

“What?!  Come on, Justin Bieber was perfect!”  

“I like the cards that make sense.”

“It did make sense?”

The card game was just as stupid and boring as Nathan had thought it would be, but like Mason said, it was a good way to pass the time.  Each player had their own little things that they always picked.  Mason always picked the cards that made the most sense.  War, what was it good for?  Amputations.  What is there a lot of in heaven?  Necrophiliacs.  Some of his cards were perfect and they made Nathan burst out in laughter.  

Zack played very obnoxiously.  Practically anything to do with sex he would pick.  Some of his cards were so disgusting that they made Nathan cringed.  What is your biggest turn on?  Coat hanger abortions.  Half way through the game, Nathan quit and without a third person, the game couldn’t continue and so Zack and Mason went back to talking to each other, mostly about the quest and what they were going to do.  Nathan didn’t go back to his seat, he was fine where he was as long as they kept their voices down.  Which gaze Nathan an opportunity to close his eyes and try to get some sleep, which he was finally able to do.

He knew they were in the city when he was awoken by the honking of a taxi driver.  His eyes rolled as he opened them, gazing sleepily out the window.  They were smack dab in the middle of traffic, completely surrounded by cars and taxis and busses.  Zack and Mason weren’t talking anymore, they were distracted doing their own thing, Zack playing with an arrow, a hard look on his face.  Nathan could instantly tell that he was thinking about his father, Apollo, and he was drowning out the world with his headphones which were stuck in his ears and Nathan could hear a fast piano melody coming from the buds.  Mason was looking out the window thoughtfully, his fist clenching and unclenching.  What he was thinking about, Nathan couldn’t guess.  

Nathan turned to the city and watched as the buildings flew by.  He wasn’t a fan of the city.  It was too big, it was too loud and there were way too many people.  But New York...even though it was everything that Nathan hated, it had something about it that made him swell up in awe.  The various miscellaneous buildings that stood out as they drove, the wide variety of people that walked down the sidewalk, the way people spoke to each other.  Nathan is in no way a city boy and watching the New Yorkers mingle was fascinating for him.  Ember would have loved it.  

The bus jerked and the three demigods and Argus’ heads whipped to the side.  Zack’s slammed up against his window and he blinked, looking around with a dazed look.  Mason and Nathan were already up, swords drawn, which was fortunate for them because at that moment, the windows shattered. Arrows shot through the glass and through them, crawled harpies.  

At first, there didn’t seem to be anything different about them.  They were still the haggard old ladies that he always sees, of course they weren’t the same as the ones at camp, but they had similar features, feathered wings and sharp talons.  But there was something off.  Something manical and evil.  He didn’t have time to think about it, because at that moment, they attacked.  

It was an explosion of feathers and dust as Mason and Nathan began to attack.  Zack was at a disadvantage.  The bus was too closed in to use his bow, at least at a range.  He was still able to smack the creatures up alongside the head, killing a couple of them but he was hesitant, he didn’t want to break his bow.  So Nathan took up a defensive position in front of the son of Apollo, using his blade to slice and cut through the harpies that came at him.  

One of them launched herself at him, pinning him to the floor.  She was about to tear his throat out when she coughed, and when she did, a black goo dripped out of her mouth, landing on his cheek and he could feel it burning as it seeped into his skin.  It was almost like she was choking, and the harpy shook her head, trying to clear her throat and she went back to attacking, slashing a claw at his neck.  He used his elbow to ram it into her head and she was knocked off, turning to dust as he rammed the sword down into her gut and she exploded into nothingness.  

His cheek was burning like it was on fire.  He pressed his palm against his skin, cringing and he spun around, deflecting a claw that had been going for his chest and he flipped his sword around, slicing it across his chest.  Mason and Zack were faring well, Zack had managed to grab a drakon bone dagger from one of the harpies and was using it instead of his bow and Mason, talented with his blade, was clearing the other side.  And Argus was a beast.  

Nathan watched as the hundred eyed man grabbed two harpies by their heads and slammed them together so hard that they instantly exploded.  It took them about five minutes to clear the bus but by the time they were finished, Nathan, panting, could hear the screams of mortals from outside.  He wasn’t sure what they saw, but it must have been pretty bad. “Argus,” Mason said, leaning against the side of the bus.  “Get us out of here.”

The man nodded, jumping into the seat and floored the gas and the bus rocketed away from the scene and down the avenue.  

“Nathan, come here.”  Zack had a cut on his forehead that dripped blood, but he didn’t seem to notice.  He was more worried about Nathan and Nathan came over, cringing as Zack grabbed his face, looking at his cheek.  “What happened?”

“One of them drooled on me.”

Zack cracked a grin, and wiped it quickly off his face as he struggled to be serious.  “My condolences.  Well that was some pretty hardcore drool.  We should probably get rid of it quick,” he reached into his bag, and Nathan raised a brow.  He could see a harmonica, a small little guitar thing and a flute, as well as a stuffed animal of some kind and about three packs of oreos.  But then Zack closed the bag, holding some ambrosia.  “Chew this...let me take care of it.  It’s literally shadow that’s in your skin and maybe I can draw it out if I can...light it up a bit.”

Nathan nodded, sitting down on a seat, Mason sitting in the one in front of him looking at him with concern as Zack placed his hand on Nathan’s cheek, his index and thumb on the outside of the blotchy black mark.  Zack closed his eyes and Nathan’s eyes widened as his hand began to glow with a golden light, a warmth spreading through his face.  Then there was pain.  He gritted his teeth, it was like what it feels when you put hand sanitizer on a cut, only about ten times worse.  The darkness, the gooey darkness, seeped out of his pours like a popped pimple and Zack used the dagger to slide it over Nathan’s cheek, collecting the goo on the dagger.

“This is some evil shit,” Zack muttered, flinging the dagger out one of the broken windows.  “I wonder what was wrong with them.”

“They were sick,” Mason muttered from where he sat.  “You could see it.”

“Sick with what?” Nathan looked up at Zack.  He seemed to be the expert on darkness and light but Zack shrugged.  

“I have no idea.  It has to be connected to everything that’s going on, though.”

Argus grunted from the front and Mason stood up, relaxing.  “We’re almost there.”

The bus thudded onto the road that sliced through the park and almost instantly, Nathan felt himself relaxing.  Central Park was much better than the city, more quiet, more peaceful.  And Mason seemed to feel the same way, settling back into his seat and he let his clenched fists go slack.  Zack seemed to be the only one that wasn’t pleased with the city going away, because he looked back longingly and sighed as it disappeared in the trees.  Whatever, Zack could deal with it.  As they drove, Nathan was trying to imagine what the Doors of Orpheus looked like.  He imagined a pair of doors carved into the side of a big rock, majestic and regal looking.  Or maybe a stone trap door that opened up into the ground.

The bus rolled into a clearing where there was a pile of rocks.  “All right, we’re here,” Mason muttered.  

Nathan frowned, peering into the clearing.  “Where is it?”

Zack pointed at the pile of boulders and Nathan’s lips drew a flatline.  “Oh.  Of course.”

“Welcome,” Mason said, reading Nathan’s mind with a grin.  “To the mighty Doors of Orpehus.”

  
  



	23. The Doors of Orpheus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Picture was commissioned for this story, and despite it floating around everyone on the internet it belongs to this series. Do not use. Zack.

 

“These are seriously the doors?” Nathan asked, raising a brow as he followed Zack and Mason off the bus.  As soon as they stepped off, Argus jammed on the reverse and got the hell out of there, leaving a trail of dust.  Nathan glanced back with a frown, wondering briefly why Argus was so eager to get away.  But he supposed the doors that lead into the World of the Dead would make anyone want to hit the road.  Nathan brought his eyes back up to the doors.  It just looked like a piles of boulders, nothing special, except for maybe the most fun thing for kids to climb in existence.

“These are seriously the doors,” Mason said, and he looked at Nathan.  “Can’t you feel it?”

Nathan closed his eyes.  Now that Mason mentioned it, he could feel something.  A force that was drawing him to the pile of rocks, like it was magnetic.  Like it was where he was meant to be.  He opened his eyes, giving a nod and the three boys approached the rocks, gazing at it.  

“Those rocks are really heavy,” Nathan said, looking at Mason curiously.  “Are we supposed to move them?”

Mason chuckled and shook his head.  “No.  In the myth, Orpheus played music to get passed the doors.”  He turned to Zack.  “You’re up, Sunshine.”

Zack grinned and threw his bag down on the ground, fishing around in his pack muttering under his breath.  He scooped out various objects, laying them out on the ground as he looked around for an instrument.  Finally, he pulled something out with a breath of relief.   A mahogany, wooden box, latched down by golden clasps.  He drew up the clasps and pulled out a wooden pan flute, gripping it with the confidence that a warrior would a blade.  There was a total silence as he began to fiddle with the flute, silence except for the trickle of a creek nearby, and the song of birds ahead.  Finally, Zack brought the pan flute to his lips, took a deep breath, and played.

It was a tune that was haunting.  It echoed through the trees and clearing, with clear notes that sang in Nathan’s ears.  He recognized the song.  A Narnian Lullaby.  And it was beautiful.   He shivered slightly as the notes escaped the  flute . For such a rambunctious, happy, cheerful guy, this song took a totally different turn. It was hauntingly beautiful, yet had an edge of danger somehow. Like he was playing about the unknown. He had never seen the Chronicles of Narnia, but he knew this universal song like the back of his hand, he used to play it on the guitar before he left it in the orphanage.

More sounds began to reach Nathan’s ear.  First the sound of something rubbing against gravel, like scraping your boot across a concrete road.  But the sound began to get louder, and louder until it was reverberating between his ears.  The massive boulders in front of them were swaying, as if dancing to the melody that was issued from between Zack’s lips through the flute.  And slowly, they began to split apart.  Moving away from each other, creating a gap between them, moving faster as the song progressed.

Zack blew the last, clear note from the flute and it echoed one more time, before everything went silent.  Before them, the boulders had split apart, revealing a passage way that went down into nothingness.  Nathan took a step forward and breathed.  It smelled like death, like a dusty old closet.  Somehow, it smelled like home.  

Mason was the first one to step in.  He took a deep breath, clenching his jaw and stepped into the tunnel, fists balled up at his side as he tried to look confident, stepping into the tunnel that would lead him into the land of the dead.  Ten feet in, he stopped and turned back towards Nathan and Zack.  “You coming?”  The two guys glanced at each other and Zack went in next, followed by Nathan. 

As soon as Nathan stepped into the passageway, the sound reached their ears again.  Stone scraping against stone.  The three demigods whirled around, watching as the doors began to close.  “No!” Zack shouted, bounding forward.  He clawed at the boulders and pushed, trying to keep them from coming together.  Nathan watched as a flash of panic sparked across Zack’s eyes as he struggled to keep the doors from closing and finally, the son of Hades grabbed Zack’s shirt, yanking him away from the doors before he got his hands squashed and they closed.

“What’s your deal?” Nathan asked.  “You knew they would close.”

“It’s different when they actually do,” Zack muttered.  His face was unnaturally pale.  He took a deep breath and turned to face Nathan, his jaw set.  “I’m a son of Apollo, the god of the sun and life.  We’re going into the realm of darkness and death.  This world is....” he cringed, looking away and took a breath.  “Let’s just keep moving.”  He extended his palm and from it, a golden light blossoming from his hand and illuminating the tunnel.  

Nathan hesitated and followed behind Mason, the caboose of the trio.  He hadn’t thought of it like that.  Nathan was already beginning to feel more at home as they descended down into the tunnel.  And Nathan wasn’t even a fan of caves.  It must feel as unnatural for Zack as it was natural for Nathan...like how Nathan felt while they were up in the air on the plane, far away from the ground.  He would try to be a bit easier on Zack as they traveled.  

As they traveled downwards, Nathan began to find that he was more at peace underground than he had thought before.  He closed his eyes and focused for a moment and could tell exactly how far underground they were.  He could tell where they were.  He could feel the air pressure.  Zack was suffering.  The guy was pale and he was gritting his teeth, looking like he wanted to fold in on himself.  Nathan hesitated and walked past Mason so that he was striding next to Zack.  

He didn’t quite know what to say at first.  Nathan wasn’t much of a conversationalist, he was either silent or people spoke to him first, simple as that.  Unless it was Ember, of course.  Fortunately, Zack seemed to get the idea, because he smirked and glanced over, the smile seeming to light up his face despite the fact that he looked like he was about to have a panic attack.  “What’s up?”

“Are you okay?”

“The son of Hades shows interest in another’s well being!”  He laughed and Nathan cringed as it echoed down the tunnel.

“Well I can go back to ignoring you if you want.”

“No!”  Zack grinned disarmingly.  “No, don’t, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for a while...pretty much the only time we were ever able to talk was when you woke up that first time and...well, that didn’t really go that well.”  Nathan smirked.  He remembered clearly, waking up in the camp and not knowing where the hell he was, threatening to stab Zack and his siblings.

“Well you have to admit, you guys didn’t really make the best entrance.  I was surrounded by dangerous tools and armed teenagers.”

Zack chuckled.  “It’s a training camp for half immortals, what else would you expect?”

“Whatever.  Seriously though, are you okay?”

Zack hesitated, watching the ground as he walked, and Nathan trailed his eyes downward.  A frown touched his lips.  With every step that Zack took, the ground beneath his boot gave a little, soft pulse of golden light before fading, like the sunlight was surging through Zack’s blood and spreading into the very ground he walked on.

“I’m just really stressed out,” Zack finally said, his eyes distant.  “My father’s been captured and he’s hurt, I can....I can literally feel it.  I can feel him dying, and I can feel the sun getting weaker.  And he’s down here.  I can feel that, as well.  But being underground, away from the sun, in a place of darkness, it’s like I’m trying to walk into a fan that’s blowing me backwards.  It’s hard to even keep walking forward.”

“I get what you mean.  Before I got to camp...well, you know how we got there.  An airplane.  The higher we got, the more sick I felt...you’re in your father’s opposite element.  It’s going to mess with you a bit.”

“And what about you.  You’re probably right at home here, aren’t you.”

“Yeah.  It’s weird, I’ve never even been here but it feels like I’ve been here before.”

Mason swore from behind and as Nathan looked back, he saw the guy stumble a little bit and he could only guess that the guy had tripped.  Zack saw too, because he grimaced and muttered an apolgoy, clenching his fist and the golden light grew brighter, lighting up the tunnel.  He hesitated, then looked at Nathan and Mason.  “Want to see something cool?”

Nathan and Mason looked up tiredly.  Zack probably wanted to show them a cool card trick or something, but Nathan’s eyes narrowed as Zack extended his palm, grinned and flicking his wrist.  The light that floated above their heads bubbled and writhed for a moment before the orb morphed into a rabbit. Wherever his hand pointed, the bunny bounced, hopping off of the cave walls, walking on the roof of the tunnel, jumping down to hover above Nathan’s head. He clenched his fist and the rabbit seemed to fold in on itself and he expanded the light into what looked like a hawk, and it flew over the heads of the campers. "You know," Zack said, his voice echoed along the tunnel walls, his eyes gleaming in the reflection of his little light. "We don't have to be down and sad," he said. "Being upset isn't going to get us out of here alive. Being a team will." Nathan raised a brow.  He had a feeling the guy was talking more about himself than the others.  

He brought his gaze back to Zack. As annoying as the guy was, he definitely had a strength to him. Everyone else was being beaten down by the doom and gloom that was resting on their shoulders like a weight, and Zack was the only one who was taking a step forward to try and lighten up the mood.  And Zack had more of a reason than any to be affected by the darkness of this place.  

“What will get us out of here alive is doing this quickly and efficiently,” Nathan said, waving his hand as the hawk hovered by his head.  It dissolved into light and reformed as a dolphin, riding along waves of light through the tunnel and back around to them to light their way.  

“We can always do both,” Zack said with a grin. 

“You’re not very good at multitasking.”

“ADHD man, we’re experts at mulitasking.”

“I heard that most demigods have ADHD,” Nathan wondered aloud, trailing behind the two.  “Why is that?”

“The ADHD functions less as a general distraction for people and more as instinctive battle reflexes.  Demigods have been fighting for their lives since the beginning, and that kind of crossed over.  We’re instinctively ready to move and to react, which is why a lot of us have ADHD.  Built in battle reflexes.”

“But what about the dyslexia?”  Nathan had always suffered from it, he and Ember both.  “Because of the Ancient Greek, right?”

Zack nodded.  “Yeah, Ancient Greek is our natural language.  English is more of a second language to us.”

Nathan frowned, stopping.  Mason and Zack stopped and looked back at him with a frown.  “Nathan?” Mason said worriedly.  “What is it?”

“Do you hear that?”  The other two demigods stayed still, listening now.  What was that noise? It sounded like a steam. He looked ahead, squinting.  He knew he could see better than the other two demigods in darkness.  Something was at the end of the tunnel. He could see light. “I see light.”

Zack was instantly moving, walking away from the other two, his excitement causing the illuminated animals to constrict into three, excitable little balls of light that followed him as he speedwalked down the tunnel.  “Zack, wait!”  Mason shouted, following after the son of Apollo and Nathan trailed behind.  Ass they came closer to the light, Zack broke out into a run, and Mason and Nathan struggled to keep up with the taller boy as they raced down the tunnel.  

Zack came to a sudden stop and Mason and Nathan nearly crashed into him, spreading their arms out to catch themselves as they came up to Zack.  Nathan peered around Zack, and his breath was instantly taken away.  It was the Underworld. 

A huge, massive cavern, spanning out farther than he could see.  Dark clouds rolled overhead, with black lightning flashing through the cloudiness, the constant sound of storms.  They were on the edge of a w ide, black river, stretching out far along the cave, almost like a long, dark lake.  Nathan frowned, walking towards the edge of the river and Mason grabbed his shoulder.  “What are you doing?” he hissed, but Nathan brushed his hand off and continued forward, stopping on the edge of the river and peering down.  He saw rings on the bottom of the river, glimmering in the green light that the cavern emitted. Wedding rings, engagement rings. He could see college acceptance letters floating tattered on the surface.  

Mason came up beside him and peered down, his eyes narrowed.  "River Styx," he muttered, backing away and looking ahead.  Across the lake was fields, endless fields that stretched out for miles.  He pointed across the lake.  “That’s where we’re meant to be.”

“How are we going to get there?” Zack asked, coming up beside them to the river.  His eyes immediately locked on a broken record in the water and he frowned, reaching to dip his hand in the water but Mason grasped his hand, jerking him back.

“Don’t touch that.  And I don’t know...” he hesitated, looking over at Nathan.  “You’re the son of Hades, maybe you can-”

Nathan shot up a hand, silencing Mason.  He felt something...there was a presence here.  An evil presence, he didn’t know, but there was definitely something close by.  He stepped towards the edge of the Styx, his boots right next to the water and he could see Mason stiffening up out of the corner of his eye at having Nathan be so close to the river.  But he kept silent as Nathan watched the dark waters for a few minutes, before finally turning around.  “I know how we can get across.”


	24. The Trap

Catherine was never a dreamer.  It was a blessing and a curse.  Her siblings would go to sleep and awaken in tears, after having been chased by some horrible monster, or they would wake up with smiles and tell her of sunlight, of paradise.  So when Catherine had a dream that night, soon after her best friend left her, she knew that it was important.  That it was being given to her for a reason.

She was in the Underworld, beside a tower.  It was a beautiful, sinister tower, jagged and edgy, like smooth, black glass that spiraled up into the air like a massive knife sticking out of the ground.  A balcony jutted out of the smooth side, and thunder rumbled in the distance.

Two figures stood on the balcony.  One was a man, tall and dark, with eyes as black as shadow and a cold look washed over his face as he stood at the edge of the balcony, hands behind his back as his robe rippled in the wind.  “What have you seen, Vrayze,” he said quietly, his eyes narrowing.  “Tell me again.”

The other figure, a monstrous humanoid, similar to an oneiroi but more bestial, gave an irritated grunt and flapped his wings anxiously.  “Three demigods, your highness,” he growled, his voice guttural and throaty, scratchy like he was trying to speak through sand paper.  “Just as you expected.  The son of Hades, the prophet.  Apollo’s little shit, and the unclaimed demigod.”

The man frowned.  “The unclaimed demigod?  Don’t bother with him.  He hasn’t shown any signs of powers just yet.  If anything, he could just be a legacy.  I need you to focus on the prophet and Apollo’s boy.  Where are they?”

“They are about to cross the River Styx.”

“The Styx...to reach the tower they have yet to cross the fields of Asphodel.”  He straightened and looked back at one of the oneiroi, who jumped as he suddenly met his master’s gaze.  “Bring me my son.”

The oneiroi paused.  “But...isn’t Lord Khalcifer at the C-”

_ “Thanatos!”  _ Erebos snapped, and the oneiroi gave a startled squak, rushing off in a flurry of flaps down a dark tunnel.  It swiftly returned, flying towards the man with a chain in his talons, which were shackled around a tall, thin and pale man with long, straight black hair.  He looked like he just popped out of an anime.  “Ah, there you are,” Erebos said, a dark smile stretching across his face and he strode towards his son, placing a hand on his shoulder.  “I need you to do something, for me.”

Thanatos didn’t respond.  Dark, purple bags hung under his eyes, his lips a straight line.

Erebos ignored Thanatos’ silence, removing his hand from Thanatos’ shoulder and turned around, walking to the edge of the balcony.  His robes rippled in the wind as he gazed down into the fiery black chasm of Tartarus.  “Nathan, Mason and Zack.  They have come too soon...I want the prophet.  Kill the others, but allow Nathan to come to me.”  Erebos smirked.  “We will be waiting for him.”  He waved his hand and Vrazye flew out, grabbing Thanatos’ chain and dragged the God forward. When Thanatos was right behind him, Erebos turned and  stretched out his index and middle finger.  Thanatos stiffened, as if to get away, but Erebos already placed the tips of his fingers on Thanatos’ temple, and a ripple went through the God’s body before he went still.  “Kill Mason and Zack,” Erebos said coolly, the smile long gone from his face.  “And lead Nathan to me.”

 

“Mason!” 

The single word slipped through Catherine’s lips as she sat up quickly.  Too quickly.  Her head knocked up against the bunk above her and she cursed, rubbing her head with squinted eyes.  Mason was in trouble...that dream, Thanatos were going to go after them.  There was no way three demigods would be able to fight the God of Death.  She needed to find a way to warn them.  

She slid off her bed, wearing nothing but some sleeping shorts and a tank top, brushing her coppery auburn hair angrily behind her ear as she dug around in her bag for a drachma.  She breathed, pulling out the coin, slipping it into her palm as she edged her way out the door.  First, she made sure there were no harpies.  If they caught her, she would be able to convince them to let her go, but that would take too long.  Best to just go cautiously and avoid the confrontation.

Keeping herself low to the ground, she made her way towards the lake, the moon reflecting off of the twin daggers that hung at her side.  She made her way to the water’s edge and she leaned over.  “Excuse me,” she whispered.  No one came up to the surface.  “Excuse me.”  A little louder, but the water was still.  She gave an irritated breath, grabbing a stone and chucked it into the water.  There were a couple ripples from beneath and one of the girls, one of the water nymphs, swam up to the surface, looking very disgruntled.  

“Hello,” Catherine breathed, kneeling down.  “I’m sorry for waking you up, but I need a mist, now.  It’s important, I need to send a message.”

The nymph gave a roll of her sea green eyes but did as Catherine wanted, waving her hand and a layer of water rose up from the lake, spreading out into a mist around her.  Catherine grabbed a flashlight from the pack she brought, adjusted it and shoen the light through the mist until there was a rainbow, and Catherine chucked in the drachma.  

“Mason Everlark!”

The fog stayed still.  Catherine narrowed her eyes and gritted her teeth.  “Mason Everlark!”  But there was still nothing in the fog and Catherine gave a shout of frustration, drawing her blade and sliced it through the fog, causing the nymph to widen her eyes and flick back into the water, the mist dissipating.  She had to find a way to warn them.  

She raced to the Big House, pounding on the door furiously.  It immediately caught the attention of a couple harpies in the trees and one of them gave a cackle, swooping down to land on the rip of the roof above her.  “Demigod out of bed,” she hissed.  “Treatsies for Nana?”  Catherine glowered at the harpy so terribly that the creature flapped her wings nervously and edged away on the roof.  “Nana not hungry.”

“Chiron!” She shouted through the door, pounding.  “Open up!”

The stepped back as the door opened and Chiron appeared in the doorway, his brown hair messy and looking tired.  “Catherine?” he yawned, arching his back so that he could step through the door and onto the deck.  “What’s wrong?”

“We need to talk.”

 

“Catherine, what do you need to tell us?” Rose asked sleepily, rubbing her eye tiredly.  She, Mikhail, Sabrina and Chiron were gathered in the rec center, watching Catherine anxiously as she continued to pace the room, a disgruntled look spread across her face.  The demigods all looked tired, Rose wearing her light blue tank top and sleeping shorts and Mikhail in nothing but boxers and a leather jacket, his eyes red and puffy from exhaustion.  It was way past midnight, and Catherine felt bad for a moment for waking them up, but upon remembering what she had seen, she didn’t feel so apologetic afterwards.  

“I had a dream,” she said, stopping at the edge of the ping pong table that the demigods were gathered around, looking back at them.  “About Mason, Nathan and Zack.”

“What did you see?” Chiron asked with a frown.  

“Erebos, Thanatos and an oneiroi.  They were standing on the edge of a balcony at the Shadowspire, and they know where they are.  They’re by the river Styx and Erebos, he’s...possessed Thanatos, and he’s going after them.”

Chiron straightened.  “We must send them an Iris message, at once.”

Catherine shook her head.  “Can’t.  I already tried.  They aren’t working.”

“Iris messages aren’t working?  Just to the Underworld or in general?”

“I didn’t try.” 

Chiron stroked his stubble, looking at the ground.  “They won’t be able to defeat a God on their own.  Thanatos may be a minor God, but he is still the God of death, and is a formidable foe, even for those three...” he brought his eyes up.  “You might get your quest, Catherine.”

Catherine grinned, for a quick moment, before regaining her composure and she straightened, her face again a blank slate.  “Thank you, Chiron.”

“If she’s going, I’m going, too,” Rose said firmly, reaching across the ping table to grasp Catherine’s hand, and Catherine gave a nod to her best friend.

“I’ll go too,” Mikhail said gruffly, rubbing the back of his neck.  “If I can.”

“Hold on,” Sabrina growled, standing up.  “Are you letting these three go into the Underworld alone?  With Nathan the others at least had a chance of getting where they need to go.  Rose, Catherine and Mikhail have no experience navigating the Underworld.

“Do you?” Chiron asked with a raised brow.

“Not as much as I would like.  They’re going to need a guide if they are going to successfully navigate the Underworld.”  She hesitated.  “Catherine, did you see anyone else in your dream?”

“No.”

“There’s one person who knows where the Shadowspire is,” Mikhail said quietly, drawing the attention of the others.  “The only problem is getting him to cooperate.”

 

Khalcifer grunted as his face slammed up against the table, Catherine’s hand on top of his head.  “Don’t try anything,” she snarled.  “And stay still.  You’re going to help us.”

“Oh am I?” Khalcifer gave a chuckle, giving an exasperated  shake of his head.  “You people just don’t get it, do you?”

Catherine snarled, moving to strike him, but Rose grabbed her arm, placing a calming hand on her friend’s shoulder.  “Beating him up isn’t going to make him want to help us, Catherine,” she soothed, and she stepped around Catherine to get to Khalcifer.  The guy was leaning against the table tiredly, disarmed and with three bows trained at him.  And with Chiron standing behind him, fingers only inches away from his quiver, the son of Erebos would know that trying to get away would be suicide.

“Khalcifer,” Rose’ voice was hesitant, like she was speaking to a raged wild animal.  “Can you please help us?   Our friends...”

“You haven’t even told me what you want me to do.  And I don’t give a flying fuck about your friends, hell, I’d kill them myself if I could.”

“Your father has set up a trap for the Prophesied Demigods.”  They turned to Sabrina, who leaned in the doorway peering into the dark room, twirling a dagger between her pale fingers.  “Nathan and the others are going to walk straight into an ambush.  And we can’t let them die.  So you are going to lead us to them through the Underworld, and if we’re too late to reach them, to the Shadowspire so that we may retrieve Nathan and Ember.”

Khalcifer stared at her blankly.  “Is this a joke?” he asked.  He was actually struggling to see if she was being serious.  “You really expect me to just...waltz into the Underworld, interfere with my father’s plan and lead you to his home?”

“In the end, you won’t have a choice.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

Sabrina narrowed her eyes, strutting up to Khalcifer and she grabbed his collar.  With surprising strength, she pushed his him up against a wall, at first an almost comical image.  He towered at least a foot above her, and was nothing but raw muscle.  But something in Sabrina’s eyes, the way she grasped him with an intense fury, the complete confidence on her face, it made even Khalcifer stiffen.  “Because in the end, we will outsmart you.  We will overpower you.  We will outlive you.”

“You idiot,” Khalcifer snarled, shoving her off and Sabrina stumbled back, caught by Mikhail before she fell to the floor.

“The Greek immortals exist through a pattern,” Khalcifer continued, brushing himself off.  “The hierarchy that you demigods have been living by won’t last forever, it’s always changing.  The Primordials were overthrown by the Titans.  The Gods overthrew the Titans.”

“The Olympian Age is not meant to come to an end just yet,” Sabrina said coolly.  She turned back to Chiron, not speaking, her eyes cold.  An unspoken message seemed to flick between the two, because Chiron gave a solemn nod and Sabrina turned back to Khalcifer.  “We are only doing this because you have left us with no choice.  We need to save those demigods, to preserve our world.”  

Khalcifer frowned, about to ask what Sabrina was talking about when she raised her hand and clenched her first.  Immediately, four demigods were on him, Mikhail included and he shouted as they wrenched his arms behind his back, gritting his teeth, hurting.  He was forced down onto his knees, watching as Sabrina strode up to him, dagger in hand . “Keep his head still,” she said.  “We don’t need him giving himself another head injury.”  Chiron stepped behind Khalcifer, grabbing the sides of his head to keep him from jerking it around.

Sabrina then crouched in front of him, placing her index and middle finger on his temple.  As soon as she touched him, his pupils extended, covering his entire eye, before dilating down to its normal size.

“Khalcifer.”  Catherine shuddered as Sabrina spoke.  Even though she was speaking to Khalcifer, the voice made Catherine want to collapse to her knees and bow before the daughter of Aphrodite, ready to serve as she pleased.  “I need you to do something for me.”

Khalcifer was struggling against her will, sweat dripping down his face, but against himself he whispered coarsely, “what must be done?”

“I need you to swear on the River Styx that you will lead us to the demigods, and if they cannot be found, to the Shadowspire.”

Khalcifer gritted his teeth, closing his eyes and shook his head, even against Chiron’s fists trying to keep it still.  “Swear it.”

“No,” Khalcifer snarled, jerking his head away.  Two incredibly powerful wills battling one another.  Catherine could see sweat balling at Sabrina’s temple as she struggled to rein in his will.  

“Swear it.”

Khalcifer didn’t respond, he turned his head away.  Catherine’s eyes widened as Sabrina leaned down, pressing her lips up against Khalcifer’s in a kiss.  The black haired son of Erebos’ eyes widened in shock, suprise in anger.  But it didn’t last long.  Right before he was about to lean into the kiss, Sabrina pulled away and said firmly, “Swear it, on the River Styx!”  She put as much charm, as much control and as much ferocity into it as possible and a shudder convulsed through Khalcifer’s body.

“I swear!” He shouted against himself, anger swelling in his voice and the demigods released him. Khalcifer collapsed to the ground, rage flashing in his eyes and he went to grab at Rose’s dagger that she kept at her hip when Catherine shook her head.

“That’s not a good idea, Khal.  Even you know that breaking a promise on River Styx is a fate worse than death.”

Khalcifer stared at her, brought his eyes to Sabrina.  He didn’t say anything at first.  He just glared at her with an intense hatred, his black hair falling in his dark eyes and he finally gave a defeated sigh, slumping his shoulders.   He raised his head, dark cruelty glinting in the obsidian of his eyes.  “I am going to kill you,” he growled. 

“One day, maybe,” Sabrina said, standing up.  She turned to the others, brushing her long, black hair behind her ear.  “Pack.  Khalcifer and I will lead you to the demigods, and we will bring them all home, in one piece.”


	25. Serpent of the Styx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pictures were commissioned for and belong to this story. Do not use.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Mason narrowed his eyes as Nathan approached the water after announcing that he knew how to get across.  How did he plan on doing that?  He couldn’t manipulate water, he couldn’t control the waves.  If Rose was here, she would probably be able to lift up the River enough for them to be able to cross underneath but Nathan, he had no power here.  Or did he?  Children of the Underworld were immensely powerful, and here in Nathan’s home turf...maybe Nathan could surprise him.  

Nathan stepped up to the edge of the Styx, quietly looking out over the water.  Mason could see the guy’s fists clenching and unclenching in his pockets as he watched the river and Mason took a step forward.  “You need any help...?” he asked hesitantly.  He had no idea what Nathan was planning on doing, so he didn’t know if he was interrupting or what, but Nathan shook his head, not meeting the unclaimed demigod’s eyes. 

“No,” he muttered.  “Just hold on.”

Mason nodded, taking a step back beside Zack who had gotten distracted and was flashing light above the water, looking down at all the miscellaneous items of lost dreams that had sank to the bottom of the stagnant river.

Mason brought his eyes up as Nathan reached out a hand over the river, like he was going to grasp at something, his fingers spread out.  Nathan then clenched his fist, tightly, as if he was squashing something and everything was silent.  Zack even stood up straighter, squinting as he looked out over the water.

“Impressive,” Zack said with a grin, giving a clap, but Mason put a hand on the son of Apollo’s shoulder, shaking his head.  Nathan might still be concentrating.  

“Look,” Mason whispered, pointing out into the river.

The still waters began to ripple.  Bubbles began to seep up from the river, churning at the surface and Zack and Mason tensed up, going for their weapons.  Something was coming up from the river.  Nathan’s eyes were closed and focused, sweat dripping down his face as he concentrated.

A skull slowly rose from the water.  The bow of a boat, which was rising up from the dark waters, black sludge and slime dripping off the sides.  It was horrifying, and it crawled out of the water with creaks and moans, water sloshing around it.  The boat seemed to be made of bones, and it moved silently and eerily across the water as it rose.  And manning it were two cloaked figures, each holding an oar and standing as they approached, cloaks dripping wet as they rowed closer to the shore.

“What the hell...” Zack muttered, instinctively going for an arrow, stopping as Nathan reached back, grasping his arm.

“Don’t,” he said quietly, tiredly.  He turned halfway, gesturing to the boat with a smirk.  “Your ride.”

Zack seemed to pale and he coughed, giving a weak smile.  “So um, we’re going to be riding on that?  On that boat specifically?  Across this river?”

“Yeah.”

Mason shouldered Zack.  “Eerything will be all right,” the brown haired boy soothed, stepping up to the boat.  He paused beside Nathan, paused and whispered, “I hope you know what you’re doing,” and he stepped onto the boat.  

He made sure to keep his skin from touching the wetness of the boat as he sat down on one of the seats around the edge.  His body tensed up as he caught sight of the two men manning the boat.  Only one problem.  They weren’t men.  They were cloaked skeletons, just bones and fabric, their empty eye sockets glowing in light, one with a dark red and the other a light blue.  He looked up as the two skeletons regarded him with expressionless faces, as if examining him before returning their attention back to Nathan, like they were waiting for orders.  Mason’s head was spinning.  He couldn’t believe Nathan had been able to summon these two.  It must have taken a lot of effort.  And as Nathan stepped onto the boat, he could see how much power that had taken, as Nathan’s knees were wobbly as he took a seat, the boat rocking slightly.   

“Mason...” 

Mason turned to see Zack standing hesitantly on the edge, watching the boat warily.  “He’s not going to let us...you know, fall in, right?”

Nathan must have been listening, because he snorted, looking up at Zack exasperatedly.  “You’re always welcome to swim,” he growled.  “But I doubt the Styx would do you any good.”

Mason gave Nathan a scolding look.  He didn’t want Zack to freak out more than he already was.  He stood up, going to the edge of the boat and placed his boot on the rim, holding out his hand.   He didn't say anything, but his eyes were constant and watchful.  Zack gazed at him for a moment before grasping his hand, pulling himself up onto the boat.

The blonde boy gave a shuddering breath, and instantly replaced his uncertainty with confidence, false, maybe, and turned to the skeletons.  “All right,” he said, slapping his hands together.  “I suppose introductions are in order here.  I’m Zack, this is Mason and I guess you already know Nathan...?”

“They don’t know me,” Nathan said, plopping down in a seat.  “They just listen to me.”

“Yeah, whatever, what are your names?”  He was directly in front of the red eyed skeleton.  It seemed to almost glare at him, but Zack didn't seem to feel fear. Nathan was in charge of these guys. Zack pursed his lips, pointing at the skeleton's face. "You're Bob," he declared, and he leaned to the side to watch the other skeleton. "And you're Arnold." 

“Don’t name my skeletons.”

“So you want them to just stay nameless dead people?  They deserve to have names.”

“They’re  _ dead  _ you idiot!”

“They still have feelings!”

Mason kept his foot on the rim of the boat for a moment, keeping his elbow on his knee as a way to rest it as he gazed back at the tunnel of Orpheus, which was barely visible with the swirling black fog which was beginning to mist over the land. He wondered where it was coming from...was it like in Catching Fire where you touched it and you began to get huge boils? Probably not, considering that the fog was now beginning to surround them. He shuddered. It was like the Underworld was beginning suffocate them entirely, dragging them down.  He blinked and chuckled darkly.  The Underworld was already getting to his head, making him paranoid, pessimistic.  

He heaved a sigh and sat down beside the bow as he gazed out over the water. He stiffened for a moment as he felt the boat begin to move, gliding over the water away from the shore.  He looked up and paled.  He had chosen to sit down right next to one of the skeletons. He was pretty sure this one was Arnold. "How are you doing, man," he muttered up to the skeleton. It ignored him, choosing to instead focus on its job with paddling the boat filled with super powered teens. That was okay with Mason. He wasn't in the mood for talking right now.

He lifted his head, watching as the shore disappeared in the misty fog, and they were just on the water.  The River Styx seemed to be more like a really long lake than a river.  It must have been growing bigger and bigger with each broken dream, each lost hope.  

The small boat sailed across the River Styx, downstream and edging closer and closer to the other side.  The three demigods were silent.  Zack had tried to make conversation earlier with Nathan, but Nathan had quickly rejected him, falling into silence and Zack finally did likewise, sitting with his elbows on his knees, tapping his thumbs together as he watched his feet.  

Mason sat by the front of the boat in silence, his head leaned back so that the back of his head was resting against the rail. He wasn't worried about falling over. The two skeletons that were manning the small boat had been up and down this river for practically eternity, and he doubted that if they fell in, they would be able to get out. Which meant that they probably never tipped. He opened his eyes, watching the other demigods. They seemed to be relaxing now that they were moving and no longer engulfed in darkness. Well...they still were, but it wasn't the same. At least now it wasn't suffocating darkness. They were now in a huge gave that expanded over the horizons rather than in a small little tunnel where you barely had any room to yourself.  He looked up at Nathan. He was worried about the guy. He was stressed and uncertain, he could easily see it in the guy's eyes, and suddenly he was leading his friends into one of the most dangerous realms in existence, the land of the dead, a place he had never been before, a place he was navigating only through instinct.

Mason looked over at Nathan.  He was twisted so that he was looking out over the water, his elbow on the rail as he watched the water, his eyes hard and focused.  

“How did you do it?” Mason asked quietly and Nathan hesitated.  

It took him a minute to answer.  “I don’t know,” Nathan said finally.  “I could sense them down there.  Beckoning, in a way.  And I just...” he gave a shrug.

“It’s pretty impressive that you’ve been able to figure this much of your powers out yourself,” Mason said.  “Most demigods need a teacher or something to tell them what to do, and how to control it...but you have to be careful.  Children of Hades...they’re powerful.  Some would say overpowered.”

“I know.  I’ve been keeping it under control.”

“Guys?”

“Shut up, Zack.  Anyways, it seems like the more I use my powers, the more instinctive it becomes.  The easier it just comes to me.”

“Guys...”

“Zack,” Nathan snarled, spinning around.  “No one wants to hear your stupid joke, okay?”

“It’s not a fucking joke!” Zack snapped, standing up.  “Can’t you feel it?!”

Nathan and Mason stiffened.  Listening, their hands on the rail as they tried to feel what Zack was talking about.  They were about to brush it off, tell him to stop goofing around and to just sit down and be quiet for the rest of the ride when the boat moved.  It rolled, like there was a wave from beneath them and they stiffened, the three demigods going for their weapons.  Zack, with the best sight, spotted the shadow first, moving underneath the boat.  

Something was definitely in the water. Zackery jumped up, pulling the arrow all the way back to his ear as he watched the water. He could see the slightest ripples as something moved underneath them. “Get away from the rails!” Mason shouted, and the three scooted into the center of the boat, each looking in a different direction.  Arnold and Bob carried out their duties, continuing to paddle them across the Styx, like nothing was wrong.  

Then there was silence.  The shadow disappeared under the water and the water went still.  Five minutes passed before Zack let his muscles relax a bit, letting his drawn bow go slack.  “Maybe it left,” he suggested and Mason lowered his blade, about to reply when the Styx exploded, and the beast within was released.  

Instinct and reflex kicked in and he immediately jumped away from the rails just in time to get away from the water that sploshed up onto the deck of the boat, and he could smell something almost chemical coming from the water.  And as the creature drew closer, he could finally get a good glimpse.  

It had the appearance of a serpent, a snake, only it had small legs on its underbelly that would allow it to climb onto land. A spine crawled its way down its back. He couldn't tell anyone what color the creature's scales were- it was covered from head to fin in something that appeared as a black goo, like it was covered in slime. He watched in horror as it heaved itself out of the water, more than fifteen feet, its teeth gnashing the air and it splashed back into the water, the waves making the boat rock and roll, but not tipping. A bit of water splashed up, hitting Mason’s arm and he cried out in pain. His skin felt like it was on fire and where the water had hit, there was a little red mark.

Mason moved to grab Zack and drag him away from the serpent on the side of the boat when he met the creature’s eyes.  It had six of them, blinking all simultaneously and Mason felt a flash of fear spike through his body, making him still, immobile for just a second.  He shook his head violently, snapping himself out of it and immediately began to start shouting directions.  

"Zack, arrows, distract that thing!" He shouted, jabbing a finger in Zack's direction.  Zack nodded, flicking his fingers and the arrow that he'd been holding back to his ear rocketed forward, finding its target, one of the creature’s eyes.  The beast roared, waving its head, and it ducked back underwater, but Zack knew that it would be coming up eventually. He drew another arrow and stepped onto the edge, his bow pointed towards the dark waters, prepared to release it at the first thing that moved. 

“What is that thing?” Nathan gasped.  He and Mason had not been able to do much, with two swords, Zack was the only one that could do any damage here.

Mason shook his head.  “I don’t know.  Some underworld creature, not all mythological beasts are recorded...and this one is ancient.  Can you feel it?”

Nathan nodded.  He hated being useless, and he gritted his teeth, drawing his celestial blade and he placed one foot up on the rail, readying an attack. Physically, he couldn't do anything to the creature until it got close. 

The boat jerked as of something scraped from underneath it and Zack yelped, his arms flailing as he struggled to keep himself on board and once the rocking of the boat settled bit, he tentatively jumped off, landing next to Nathan. He walked over towards the edge, the string of his bow drawn back to his ear as he gazed into the water, light blue eyes watching for the smallest movement. It was like the creature had just disappeared. "Where'd it go?" He muttered to himself. He could hear Mason behind them, stepping into the middle of the boat, his leader look on his face. 

"Alright," Mason said. Zack could hear the uncertainty in his voice. "Nathan," he looked at the son of Hades and nodded towards Bob and Arnold. The two skeletons had remained completely immobile throughout the entire attack. "I need you to get these guys to-" there was a huge splash as something shot out of the water. A tail. 

"Hit the deck!" Zack shouted, pulling Nathan to the ground. The tail flew over the two harmlessly, but he heard a "oof!" and a splash. Zack felt a coldness in his gut as he brought his head up, and where Mason had been standing, there was nothing.

“NO!” Zack shouted.  He rolled off of Nathan and ran over towards the edge of the water, hopping up on the ledge beside Arnold as he gazed down into the dark water. He couldn't see Mason anywhere. Wait no, he did see a glint of celestial bronze. He had dropped his sword and now it was sinking to the bottom of the river, along with all of the other treasures that would never be recovered. But he couldn't see Mason. 

Zack felt like he was going to be sick as he stepped off, looking feverishly into its gloomy murkiness. He was hoping that Mason would just pop his head up and swim over, laughing about how the water is cold (or at least that's what Zack would have done, had he been in his place, and alive) but he didn't. The water stayed still except for the ripples and waves that were being washed up by the monster that was still swimming right underneath their boat. He squinted as he spotted a faint glow from beneath, but his attention was redirected to Nathan as he shouted.  

“Zack, he’s gone!  We need to kill this thing, now!”

The serpent smashed into the side of the boat, bones flying off the side and Zack flew his hand out, grabbing the side to keep himself from falling off.  “How?!  This thing is just going to keep bashing the boat until we fall in!”

Mason was the idea guy.  If he was here, he would be spouting out directions, but it seemed Nathan was taking over that role.

“Just do what you do best.  Annoy the shit out of it, draw it in and I’ll take care of it from there.”

Zack grinned and nodded.  “Aye aye, captain.”  The thing had disappeared, but it would be coming back soon, and when it did, Zack would be ready.  He drew his bow, standing ready on the boat as he knocked three arrows back to his ear, his chest becoming straight and stiff, feet parted as he turned his body sideways, his light blue eyes looking down the shaft as he prepared to fire.

He wasn’t focusing entirely on the creature. His eyes were still on the water, trying to find Mason’s face, his wavy brown hair.  Even if it was just his body.  Nathan spotted and the son of Hades sighed, shaking his head.  “Stop looking for him.  He’s gone.”

Zack cringed, closing his eyes as he heard the words that Nathan spoke. That Mason was gone. Which also meant that he was dead. For a second, Zack felt a surge of guilt. He should have done something. Grabbed him before he fell in. Jumped in after the guy. But he could already see flaws in those plans. He couldn't have possibly grabbed him, he had been saving Nathan’s life. Jumping in would have probably been the dumbest thing to do, considering that it would get him killed as well. How did Zack know that he was dead? The stupid ritual. Mason couldn't have possibly prepared for a dip in the Styx and asked for his mother's blessing. Besides, wasn't his mother dead? No, Mason was gone. 

The thing rose up then, coming up to the surface and Zack released the three arrows, each pounding into the thing’s head, not killing it, but irritating the creature and it turned to give him an evil look, sharply turning towards the boat, crashing into the side.  

“Get it to come out of the water!” Nathan shouted, cringing as the river splashed up onto his skin.

Zack hesitated.  He knew what to do, but it was so dangerous, so daring, it was surely going to get him killed.  Sounds like Zack’s kind of thing.  He jumped up onto the rail, shooting out his arms to balance himself a bit and then steadied himself, quickly finding the creature’s shadow as it dipped under the water.  “Hey, maggot-breath!” he shouted into the water, reaching towards Bob.  To the skeleton’s  bewilderment, Zack yanked off his pinky finger, chucking it into the water to draw the creature’s attention.  And it did. 

Spotting Zack standing there like a sitting duck, the thing began to shoot up towards the surface.  Zack had been fly fishing enough to know that the thing was about to jump, about to clamp its jaws on Zack’s torso but he kept his ground, waiting, waiting...

Now!  He jumped and the thing flew up over the boat.  Nathan moved then, using his sword like a spear he jumped into the creature’s line of fire, going onto his knees and he screamed, raising up his blade and the thing came crashing down onto the son of Hades, crushing him, the sword going through it’s throat, and the creature went still.  

“Nathan!” Zack shouted, jumping over to them and slid down onto his knees, putting his hands up against the creature.  He grunted, pushing the creature off and Nathan coughed, crawling from underneath the creature that was already beginning to disintegrate into golden dust.  “Are you okay?” Zack asked, putting a hand on Nathan’s shoulder and the son of Hades coughed, giving a nod.  

They both looked over at the dead serpent, the last of its body turning to ash and Zack took a breath.  “That’s the last time I’m ever going fishing,” he muttered, standing up and he crossed over to the rail, gazing down into the water.  Mason had never come up.  Never surfaced, never showed.  

Mason was gone.  

  
  



	26. Fangs Under The Sun

Catherine, Sabrina and Chiron stood on the Big House porch, watching as Rose and Mikhail began to meander about, packing various items, chatting nervously with one another.  Khalcifer had been unbound.  They didn’t have to worry about him escaping anymore, unless he was looking forward to a slow, painful death, and he sat grimly by the dead campfire on a log, glaring at the ground and twirling a dagger expertly through his fingers.

“Keep an eye on him,” Chiron murmured.

Assuming that the centaur was talking to her, Catherine opened her mouth to respond but Sabrina beat her to it.  “Of course,” the dark haired girl purred and Catherine pursed her lips angrily and looked away.

“I’ll go pack then,” she muttered, stepping down from the porch.  Well, while Sabrina and Chiron were busy conversing without her, she might as well set Rose, Mikhail and Khalcifer on track.  She looked back to the demigods and whistled.  They stopped what they were doing, looking up to pay attention to what she had to say.  "Listen up!" she called. "Pack all necessary items, leave your valuables.  Make your way over to the stables, choose a pegasus and meet me back here. We need speed and pegasi is right now the fastest way we can get to California, so get a move on it!" she left them at that, making her way over to her cabin.

 

Fortunately for Catherine, she was fairly specialized at knowing how to organize the necessities from the desirables.  And of course, topping the list of necessities was a good, engaging book.  After pawing through her shelf for a minute she finally chucked Clan of the Cave Bear into her bag and began to grab the other items she knew would come in handy.  Duck tape, an extra dagger, some twinkies, ambrosia and a couple vials of nectar.  

“Where the heck are you going?”

Catherine stood up to see Arthur stepping into the room, his brow raised as he looked at her bag.  “You’re not leaving, are you?”

Catherine frowned, swinging her bag over her shoulder.  “As a matter of fact, yes, I am.”

“You can’t.  It’s against camp regulations to-”

“I’m sure you’ve heard that I’m one of the prophesied demigods.”  Arthur’s lips flattened with rage.  He obviously had.  “Well, now I’m going on a quest.”

“A quest for what, fetching someone’s pencil?”

“Classified.”

Arthur snorted and rolled his eyes, raising his hands up.  “Whatever, Catty,” he said, purposely irritating her through her nickname.  “Break a leg.”  Catherine was pretty sure the boy meant it in a literal way as he gave her a twisted smile, walking out the door.  

“Break your neck,” Catherine muttered, turning her back on the door as she angrily shoved a shirt into her bag.  

Once she was sure she had everything packed, she threw her bag over her shoulder and walked out into the camp.  She could see Rose, Khalcifer and Mikhail by the stables.  Mikhail and Rose were talking, Mikhail was obviously trying to sooth Rose down who looked a little nervous.  

“Can you fucking stay still?!” Growled a voice and Catherine looked over, spotting Khalcifer trying to wrangle a pegasus.  He had chosen a black one and was trying to approach it, anger practically radiating off the guy as he lunged at the pegasus.  The winged horse pranced away and Khalcifer snarled, spinning around and met Catherine’s eyes.  “What do you want?” he growled at her, looking over at the pegasus.  

“You’re doing it wrong.”

“What the hell do you know about pegasi?”

“Well my best friend is the daughter of Poseidon, and she’s given me a few tips.  Now do you want help or not?”

“Forget it,” Khalcifer said stubbornly, turning to face the pegasus and he jumped at the mare, trying to mount her but she kept jumping out of the way as easily as if it was just a game to her.  “Stupid animal,” Khalcifer muttered, going down to draw his sword.  The pegasus spotted the gesture and her hoof was instantly out, pounding Khalcifer in the shoulder and the son of Erebos cried out, flying backwards into a pile of hay, a dazed look on his face as the pegasus snorted at him and pranced away.

Catherine chuckled and approached him, kneeling down so that she was eye level with him.  “How about now?”

Khalcifer didn’t say anything, but he gave a sour nod and Catherine stood up, trying to find another black pegasus.  A stallion stood pawing at the ground and she walked towards him, grabbing a carrot on the way and clicked her tongue, grabbing his attention.  “Hey there, boy,” she said calmly with a smile, approaching him.  “Want a carrot?” she waved the veggie and the stallion cocked his head, prancing up and bit into the carrot and while he was distracted with it, Catherine grabbed his reins and drew him over to Khalcifer who was standing up, brushing straw off his dark shirt.  “There,” she said, giving him the reins. 

He gruffly nodded in thanks and climbed up onto the horse’s back, turning his back on her.  Catherine sighed and spotted a white stallion near her and she grabbed his reins, hoisting herself up onto his back, strapping her bag to herself.  The morning rays of the sun were lighting up the entire camp and she stepped out of the stables on the pegasus’ back, looking out over the strawberry fields with a sigh.  Everything was going to be changing.  She could feel it.  

“All right!”  She drew her eyes up as Sabrina cantered up on the back of a black stallion.  “We fly now!  Do not fall behind, we don’t have the time to stop.  We will fly until nightfall and any questions can be asked while we’re in the sky.  Double check to make sure you have your weapons, nectar and ambrosia.”  She waited as the demigods looked through their bags and nodded in confirmation.  “Then let’s go.”  Her stallion flapped its wings and exploded into the sky, followed by Rose, Mikhail and finally Khalcifer who muttered a curse and followed behind grudgingly.  

Catherine was about to take off when she heard a voice from behind.  “Catherine.”  Catherine turned around and watched as Chiron approached her, a grim expression on his face.  

“What is it?” Catherine asked curiously as Chiron stepped up to her.  She was for once at eye level with him.  

“Listen to me,” he said quietly.  “Rescuing Ember and your friends is not what is important here.  Your priority is finding Apollo.  Whatever is coming, it is strongly connected to darkness, and Apollo is one of the only people who can combat it.  Do you understand me?”

Catherine nodded and Chiron straightened, nodding at the sky.  “Then go.  Go fast, and come back alive.”

Catherine gave a determined nod and dug her heels into her pegasus’ sides and the pegasus whinnied and flapped its wings, rocketing into the air.  The wind billowed around her face, a couple strands falling from her two, auburn braids and began to slap her in the eyes and she squinted, using a hand to rub her eye as they rose higher up into the sky.  

Once Catherine was sure everyone was up in the air and that nobody had been left behind, she redirected her attention to their path.  Catherine didn’t trust Sabrina and Khalcifer to make sure they got to California.  She reached into her bag and pulled out a map, unraveling it. The wind billowing in her face made it a little difficult to try and read it, but she could manage.  It was a map of the winds. Where they were strongest ,where they were weakest, the easiest route that would take them to San Francisco. And by the looks of it, it would take them an entire day of flying to get them over to California, as long as this map stayed true to what it was saying. She slipped it back into her satchel, looking ahead, eyes narrowed. She hadn't bothered telling them how dangerous this was. They were hundreds of feet in the air, most of these people didn't seem to be very comfortable with flying. If they were attacked by oneiroi, she was sure at least one of them would end up falling to their deaths.

She looked over spotting Mikhail.  The guy looked like he was going to be sick, holding onto his pegasus’ neck maybe a little too tightly, his eyes closed shut and his hands were gripping the reins so tightly his knuckles were white.  Catherine smiled softly and drew her pegasus over to his, pulling up next to him.  “Mikhail,” she called over the wind and Mikhail opened his eyes, fear flashing in them as he glanced downwards.  “Look,” and she pointed backwards.

Mikhail looked up and his breath was caught in his throat.  They were gazing at the sunrise behind the.  The entire sky was a sea of flames that burned across the sky, lighting up the clouds with impossible colors.  A warm breeze blew by, ruffling Catherine’s hair and she watched Mikhail settle down a little, a calmer expression flushing over his face.  “Rose,” Catherine called and the dark skinned girl look over.  Her wavy black hair was back in a light blue bandanna, and she looked absolutely calm and at ease up in the sky.  She nodded towards Mikhail and Rose nodded, flying over to the son of Hephaestus to comfort him as Catherine moved up beside Sabrina.  

They were beginning to fly over a city, and so Sabrina quickly kicked her pegasus in the sides and it grunted, then flapped its wings, flying a little higher up into the sky so that they were above the clouds.  Catherine did likewise, followed by the others.  Even this high, she could see through the water vapor buildings and streets, tiny little dots that she knew were cars shooting down a highway. 

“It’s pathetic,” she heard Sabrina mutter from beside her.  They had slowed down a tad now that they were up in the sky and Catherine could easily hear her over the wind.

Catherine frowned, cocking her head curiously.  “What is?” she ventured and Sabrina nodded downwards towards the ground. 

“Here they were flying to save the world and there they are, going to their job or sitting on their asses watching television.  They’re disgusting.  They’re content with wasting away in the bleak haze that they call a life.”

Catherine smirked.  “Humans don’t have as much of an exciting life as we do, Sabrina,” Catherine said Sabrina snorted.

“They can always make an effort to do something with their lives.”

“Sabrina?” Rose came up behind them, Mikhail shortly after her.  “I have a couple questions.  How long is it going to take to get there?”

“It should take us the rest of the day.”

“What if we find some monsters?”

“We’ll fly.  We don’t have time to fight.”

“What are we going to do with Khalcifer when we’re done?”

“I don’t know, we’ll get to that when the time comes.”

“How are we-”

Sabrina snapped and whirled around, her eyes flashing in anger.  _ "Enough!" _ she snapped, the graceful, silver tone of her voice shattering into one, powerful word that echoed through the air. The sudden shout made her pegasus rear up a tad and she quickly stroked a hand down the creature's neck in an attempt to calm it down, but she was still scowling.  

Catherine narrowed her eyes as Sabrina pulled ahead and over at Rose who looked baffled.  “Forget her,” Catherine growled.  “She’s a bitch.”

“I was being pretty annoying,” Rose said admittedly with a sheepish smile.  “It’s fine.”

“No it’s not.  She shouldn’t have treated you like that.”

Rose shook her head.  “No, really, it’s okay,” she looked back and smirked, nodding back.  “You should help our captive out.”

Catherine looked back and sighed as she spotted Khalcifer struggling with his pegasus, trying to get it to move forward but the thing was throwing its head and flapping its wings in a jerky manner.  Gods, how could one boy piss a pegasus off that much?  She nodded, pulling back on the reins and the pegasus spread out its wings, letting the others shoot by and backed up to Khalcifer who was swearing and jerking his reins.

“What’s wrong,” she asked tiredly.

“I don’t need your help.”

“Shut up and stay still,” she flew over beside his pegasus.  She could see his muscles tensing, he wanted to shove her off her pegasus, slit the thing’s throat and watch them both topple to their deaths, but he kept still as she stroked the pegasus’ neck, calming it down.

“What the hell are you doing to it to make it hate you so much?” she asked seriously, bringing her eyes up to his and he narrowed his eyes at her, giving a shrug.  

“I’m not doing anything.  It just doesn’t like me.”

“No, it hates you.  Have you been...” she trailed off as she spotted something behind him over his shoulder. 

One of the clouds was darker, fast moving.  Rain?  Brilliant, they could get struck by lightning before they reached the Underworld.  But as the cloud suddenly split into individual space, the girl gasped. It was an attack. "Draw your weapons!" she snapped, her voice crisp and forceful as she suddenly jerked on her pegasus reins, drawing it upwards. Reaching behind her, she drew her bow from over her shoulder, hovering above the others as she narrowed her eyes, one hand tight in the reins. 

Oneiroi, a whole swarm...and something a little bigger.  Griffons.  And beings riding upon them.  She couldn’t see their faces, they were hooded and cloaked.  "Oneiroi, griffins and riders!" she shouted below to the others, and she locked eyes with Khalcifer.  She chewed on the inside of her lip. He didn't have his weapon...but at least he could evade. He would not get a blade during this battle, she couldn’t risk him injuring any of the others.

The oneiroi hit them first.  Rose, Mikhail and Sabrina all had their weapons drawn, Rose her three pronged trident, Mikhail his hammer and Sabrina her wicked sharp dagger.  Catherine reached back to her quiver, pulling an arrow and pumped it into an oneiroi that was going towards Rose’s back and the thing screeched and fell through the crowds.  

Then the griffin’s began to approach.  Catherine’s eyes darkened as the beasts began to near. The oneiroi were something that she was used to.  Servants of Erebos and creatures of darkness, which played a great part in what was going on.  She wasn't very surprised to see them here, trying to stop them. What was worrying her were the riders on the griffins. And the griffins...there was something wrong with them. They moved with a sharpness that was not natural of griffins, filled with insanity and anger.  They had been changed somehow.  They were evil creatures, rather than just animals that had been trained to carry their riders. And the riders...

One of them shot by her.  She saw it out of the corner of her eye and her heart dropped into her stomach. It was a humanoid, a very attractive humanoid, but they had changed, with grey skin, black nails. But the eyes were blood red, with fangs dropping an inch below their lips, with shadow, darkness and hate practically rolling off of them.  They were dead.  She knew exactly what these things were.

She tried to jerk her pegasus over to the right, to try and escape the blade, but it was already slashing across her stomach, blood blossoming in its trail and she gasped, doubling over, gritting her teeth in pain. She nearly slipped from her pegasus, but her thin, pale hands gripped the reins tightly. She still felt like she was going to pass out.

“Catherine!” Rose shouted.  

“Stay where you are!” Catherine shouted back.  "We have to get away from them," she whispered weakly, pulling another dagger from a sheath strapped to her arm underneath her shirt and flicked it towards one of the vrykolakas. It impaled the beast in the back of the head, but it merely turned its neck so that it could face them, baring its teeth at them in a gruesome smile and it disappeared into the cloud of oneiroi.

“Catherine!” 

Catherine swiveled around, watching as Khalcifer shot his hand out, strangling an oneiroi in tendrils of shadow and the thing gurgled and fell.  “I need a blade!” he shouted, giving an ‘oof!’ as one clubbed him in the head before flying away.

“I’m not giving you a sword,” Catherine snarled.  Even if she had one on her, she wouldn’t trust Khalcifer with one and she turned away, watching as Sabrina used her blade to slice it across a passing oneiroi’s throat.  They were going to die.  Even with Mikhail taking out everyone that came at them with his hammer and Rose confusing them by controlling the clouds, they were going to be killed.  And with those riders...

“Catherine!”  

Catherine looked up, watching Sabrina as she kicked an oneiroi in the head.  “I’m going to draw them away, lead them to safety, I’ll follow!”  Before Catherine could say anything, Sabrina whistled and said, “come get me.”  It was quiet, even Catherine barely heard her, but she heard the silkiness, the sultriness of it and the oneiroi instantly looked over at her and began to follow.  

But that didn’t mean the riders and their griffins would follow suit.  They were too intelligent for charm speaking, too powerful.  Catherine shouted in pain as something slammed into her pegasus and she fell from her saddle.  Wind rushed past her as she fell, a scream escaping her lips, but shortly after she fell on something hard.  

Feathers were in her face and she spat one out, opening her eyes.  She landed on one of the griffins, and its rider gazed at her baffled and confused.  Catherine didn’t give it time to react, kicking out as hard as she could and the thing hissed, falling from the griffin’s back and it disappeared into the clouds.  

She figured she could just guide the griffin to the ground, or back to her pegasus, but she was unprepared for how hateful it was.  It gazed back at her with a crazed look in its eyes and it gave an eagle like screech, arching its neck around and tried to snap at Catherine’s hand.  The daughter of Athena gasped, drawing backwards and then lurched forwards, grabbing onto the thing’s neck as it twisted upside down and dove downwards with its wings tucked in, trying to make her fall off before veering up sharply, twisting around.  

“Jump!”

Catherine looked down, Mikhail was right underneath her and she swallowed, letting go.  She landed roughly on the pegasus, guided down by Mikhail grabbing her shirt and they veered away.  Catherine quickly settled behind the son of Hephaestus, roping her arms around his waist and looked downwards.  Forest.  “We need to  hide, go into the trees!”  

Mikhail nodded, and Catherine looked over, meeting Rose’s eyes as the girl drew close to them on her pegasus one time before they dove down into the trees.  

Branches sliced and cut at Catherine’s face as they wove through the trees.  She squinted her eyes, ducking and swerving as they went through the trees, the pegasus’ wings tucked in.  Then she saw shapes flashing through the trees beside them and she looked over, spotting a cloaked rider on their griffin beside them.  

She drew her bow, knocking her arrow and aimed.  Not for the rider.  She fired and the arrow whipped through the trees, finding its mark and impaled the griffin in the eye and it screeched, veering to the right and crashed into a tree, the griffin exploding into dust and the rider flying off and into some bushes.  

They slowed down soon after, the pegasus dipping down into a clearing and it landed fretfully on the grass, its entire body trembling as Mikhail and Catherine slipped off its back, both of them panting.  Blood slipped into Catherine’s eye and she rubbed her brow, looking over at Mikhail who leaned against a tree, his eyes closed.  “Are you okay?” she gasped and he nodded tiredly.

“Yeah, you?”

Catherine nodded, picking her way over to the pegasus and she grabbed its reins.  “We need to find the others.”  

 

It didn’t take the pair long to find Rose and Khalcifer.  Rose came out of some thick undergrowth and Catherine breathed with relief, rushing up to her.  “Rose!” she exclaimed, giving her friend a hug and she pulled away, looking at her with concern.  “Are you-”

“I’m not hurt,” Rose said quietly.

“You are, though,” Khalcifer muttered, and Catherine’s eyes trailed downwards.  Her orange shirt around her stomach was soaked with blood, and she cringed, drawing her hand up to it.  

“It’s not that bad,” she whispered, looking up at the sky.  Noon.  They had to keep going if they were going to make it.  “Where are your pegasi?”

“Mine was killed when we landed,” Rose said quietly. 

“Mine flew off,” Khalfier growled.

Catherine rolled her eyes.  “I’m not surprised.”  Only one pegasus, they needed a change of plans.  “I lost my map during the fight,” she muttered.  How were they going to get...it came to her and she groaned, rubbing her face.

“What is it?” Rose asked, stepping forward.

“Without Sabrina, we can’t get to San Francisco.  And I think I know a guy who can help us get there.”

“Who?” Mikhail asked curiously.

Catherine took a deep breath.  This was going to be interesting.  “Felix.  Felix Callaway.”


	27. Manipulation of Mist

“Are you going to stop being cryptic and tell me where we’re going?” Ember huffed as she followed Elijah through the tower.  The boy had remained unbearably quiet as he lead her down the halls, being very cautious with where they went and who saw them, trying to keep them as hidden as possible.  

           “We’re almost there,” Elijah promised her as they stepped down a hall, their steps echoing down the corridor. 

“That’s not what I asked,” Ember muttered, but she remained quiet as they continued on their way.  She began to notice a change in the architecture.  Back by the throne room, everything looked regal and majestic, like the inside of a castle.  And now, it was more like they were walking through a dungeon, the floor cracked and webs hanging in corners.  It seemed like your typical badguy hangout, and so Ember wasn’t sure why he was dragging her down here if they were going to be talking to people that could help her.  

“Why are you doing this?” she asked as she stepped over a piece of rubble.  The question had been nagging at the back of her mind.  Why was Elijah helping her?  And apparently Elijah couldn’t find an easy answer for that either, because he remained quiet as they walked for a long moment.

“I’m not sure,” he finally said.  “I haven’t been shown much kindness for a long time and you...well.  You have, to an extent.  I guess it’s just repaying the favor.  And plus, I’m sick of you Hecate girls and so we might as well just get the ritual over with.”

Ember smirked.  “Or maybe it’s because you like me?” she teased, but Elijah took it seriously because he snapped his head over, a baffled look on his face.

“No!”

“Oh yeah?  You suure?” Ember was grinning now, shouldering him and he scowled, taking a couple steps away from her as they walked.

“Yeah,” he growled.  “I’m pretty sure.”

“Who’s there!”

Ember and Elijah froze, completely immobile and Ember watched as Elijah put his hands up into the air, looking forward.  There was nothing but a dark tunnel ahead, but Ember could see a silhouette in the shadows.  “You, the girl,” the voice commanded.  “Put your hands in the air.”

She felt like a criminal, but Ember slowly raised up her hands, putting them behind her head and the figure stepped from the darkness.  It was a girl.  She held a bow that was pointed at their heads, but the way she held it was wobbly, she was obviously not accustomed to range weapons.  She wore a tattered, grey dress, the dress of the slaves here, and her feet were bare, bloody and callused.  But Ember wasn’t paying attention to that.  She was looking at the girl’s features.  She looked about the same age as Ember, with choppy black hair, pale, porcelain skin and bright green eyes.  Her features, her colors...she looked exactly like Ember.

“Ember,” Elijah said, gesturing to the girl.  “Meet your sister.”

The girl’s eyes seemed to darken with grief as she lowered the bow.  “So you’re another reject,” she whispered.  “I’m so sorry.”

“No,” Elijah said hastily, stepping forward.  “He hasn’t taken her yet.  She can still do this, but she needs to learn how to manipulate the mist, which is why we’ve come.”

The girl’s eyes widened with understanding and she nodded, looking back over at Ember.  She smirked, stepping up and stretched out her hand.  “Hey,” she said.  “My name is Jude-” she didn’t get to finish, because Ember quickly smothered her in a hug and Jude stiffened.  But Ember couldn’t help it.  She had been without a family for years, more than a decade, and suddenly being given a sister, many sisters, her heart was pounding as she clung onto Jude who remained as straight and stiff as a statue.  Hugging a pillar probably would have been more comfortable.  

Eventually, Jude was able to wriggle out of Ember’s hug and said gruffly, “Nice to see you, too.”  She rubbed her arm, giving Ember a cautious look and then turned to Elijah.  “Come with me.”

Ember followed, but she had so many questions.  Where has she been?  Could she control the mist?  Had she ever met their mother?  But she kept quiet as she followed the two, chewing on her lip excitedly while twiddling her fingers anxiously.  

They came to a heavy stone door and Jude wrapped her fingers around the edging, giving a heave and she swung it open, gesturing them inside.

It was a large room, lit up by torches with red, normal flame, lighting up the dark, eerie room.  It was the slaves quarters, bunk beds piling up in the rooms, a small table where they could eat and roaming around were teens.  Her siblings.  Ember could find her features in all of them.  Most of the children had green eyes and black hair, but some were different, like one had brown hair and purple eyes, and another girl had red hair.  They were all garbed in the same outfit, a dirty little grey dress, with a layer of dust and grime covering their faces.

They slowly stopped what they were doing to stare and Jude coughed and stepped forward.  “This is Ember,” she called.  “Your new sister.”

Excitement glittered in their eyes as they approached, asking questions and checking her out.  Ember wanted to hug every single one of them.  

“Has she been...” a girl with light blue hair spoke up hesitantly and Elijah shook his head.  

“Not yet.”

“Are you from the camp?” another girl, with black hair and purple eyes, asked.  “Is everyone okay?”

“It was attacked,” Ember responded, and a collective gasp came up from the Hecate girls.  “I don’t know what’s going on there, this asshole here kidnapped me,” she jabbed Elijah in the ribs and he jolted, scowling at her as he rubbed his side.  “Hey,” Ember called, squinting into the crowd.  One person stood out from the others, hunched over with raven black hair that almost went down to their shoulders.  “Aren’t you a dude?”

The guy straightened and grinned.  “It was an honest mistake,” he gave a chuckle, running his pale fingers through his dark hair.  “I’m Gin.”

“Ember,” Ember said with a grin, holding her hand out to shake his when a voice snapped through the room like a whip.  

“What are you doing here?”

The teens separated to make room for a woman.  She looked like she was in her early twenties, twenty two or twenty three, with short, feathery black hair and glittering green eyes.  At her hip, Ember could see two daggers made of celestial bronze glinting in the firelight. She had the body of a warrior.  Elijah breathed, gesturing to the girl.  “This is the person that you have to see.  Ember, meet Lou Ellen.  Lou Ellen, meet Ember.”

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Ember breathed, reaching out her hand.  Lou Ellen didn’t take it.  She gazed at Ember suspiciously, one hand resting on her dagger and Ember slowly pulled away.  Her mind was still racing, this was so amazing!  She was meeting all of her sisters, a family she never knew she had and they’ve all been here…enslaved.  Ember narrowed her eyes, gritting her teeth.  “Why the hell are you letting Erebos coop you all in here?”

The Hecate girls -and Gin- shuffled anxiously.  

“We don’t have any other choice,” Lou Ellen said shortly, folding her arms over her chest, glaring daggers at her.

“Are you kidding me?!  There are more than twenty people here, we’d be able to bust out!”

“No, we can’t.”

Ember was getting frustrated with this woman.  She clenched her jaw and took a step forward.  “You’re all children of Hecate!  All you have to do is just use a little magic and-”

“We don’t  _ have  _ magic!” Lou Ellen shouted, her voice echoing through the room.  

Ember paused.  “What...what do you mean?” she asked with a frown.

Lou Ellen leaned against a wall, her face shadowed as she rubbed her face.  “None of us have magic anymore, Ember,” she said quietly, gesturing to the others.  Now that Ember looked, she could see something in their eyes.  Something dead, sad and lifeless.  Like they had had their soul torn out.  “We all went through the trials that you have been through.  And none of them were able to conjure the mist, and that was what always made up Erebos’ mind.”  She closed her eyes.  “I was the only one who could manipulate the mist, but Erebos stole my powers because I was too old to be a part of the ritual.  I have tried to train the girls to be able to manipulate the mist but...” she looked over at them and the girls cringed, looking away with pained expressions etched across their faces.  “Every time, they come back looking like this.”  She looked back up at Ember, her eyes hard.  “You are the last true daughter of Hecate.  The last who can wield magic.  But I can’t help you.  I’m sorry.”

It all made sense.  Erebos would take their magic when they failed, leaving them to be useful only as slaves.  Ember couldn’t even imagine having her mana taking away, every second she could feel it coursing through her veins, and the thought of having it gone made a shiver slip down her spine.  And she could see why all of these girls seemed so lifeless.  They were completely powerless, they couldn’t fight back, they couldn’t do anything.  Couldn’t do anything except lay down and die.  Ember narrowed her eyes and snorted.

“So this is Hecate’s Blood?” she muttered and the girls looked up at her with raised brows.  “I thought my sisters-” Gin coughed and Ember smirked.  “And brothers, would be a bit more...formidable.  I can’t believe you guys are just going to let Erebos do this to you.”  

“But he has,” Lou Ellen said sharply.  “And he’s going to do it to you, as well.  So you might as well get used to it.”

“But what if I can do it?” Ember asked, stepping forward excitedly.  “What if I can control the mist?”

“You can’t.”

“But what if?”

Lou Ellen hesitated.  “Then I guess he will stop collecting children of Hecate, if there are any, because you will be strong enough for the ritual.”

“Right.  Taking away someone’s mana is horrible, I can see what it’s done to all of you.  But if you help me, it won’t happen to anyone else.  And this whole thing will be over with.”  She hesitated.  “Plus, I _really_ don’t want mine taken away.

Lou Ellen chuckled darkly.  “Understandable.”

“Lou,” a girl said, stepping up.  It was the brown haired, purple eyed girl she had seen before, Charlotte?  She held out her hand, concentrating, and Ember could see from her own efforts that she was trying to summon fire, but distraughtly, she sighed and lowered her palm.  “She might be the last daughter of Hecate who can use mana.  You have to help her.”

“All right,” Lou growled, holding up her hand and the demigods who were beginning to speak grew quiet under her dark glare as she turned back to Ember.  “I’ll help you learn how to manipulate the mist.”

 

“With the power of mist,” Lou Ellen said.  “You can alter reality through illusions.” They were standing in the center of the room, with Ember’s siblings standing around the wall, watching anxiously.  It was heartwarming, knowing that all of these people desperately wanted her to succeed, many of them whispering to her that she could do it as the two took their places in the middle of the room.  “You cannot actually change what the item is, only how others can view it.”

She reached into her hair, drawing a small bobby pin.  Ember frowned, watching and her eyes widened as Lou suddenly held a curved shortsword.  “The bobby pin you saw before,” Lou Ellen explained.  “Is what you saw through the mist.  The sword is it’s actual form.”  She replaced the sword with the pin and shoved it back into her hair.  “The children of Hecate have the power to bind a weapon or a shield with a certain mortal item through the mind, and create a mist form for it.  And that’s what we’re going to be doing now.”

“You’re going to be making me a magic weapon?”

“No.  You are.  What is your preferred weapon?” 

Ember hesitated.  She wasn’t very good at any weapons, she went through the training back at camp but she could never beat anyone, she wasn’t skilled at any close combat or ranged weapons.  So she normally stuck to her magic.  “I suppose a dagger,” she said finally, looking up at Lou.  “Light, easy to use and you can keep it hidden.”

Lou Ellen nodded.  “Good choice.”  She whistled and Gin pawed around in a bin by the wall, some clangs and bangs and finally drew a dagger, tossing it over his shoulder and Lou Ellen grabbed it nimbly, handing it to Ember.  “Here.”  

Lou Ellen gave Ember a moment to look at her dagger.  It was exactly how she pictured it, the hilt fit into her palm, the blade was light but heavy enough to where she could be accurate if she ever needed to use it.  “Now,” Lou Ellen said, and Ember directed her attention back up at the older female.  “You have to use magic to combine it with any mortal item.  I recommend something small, and portable.  A hairclip, an earring, a pocket knife.”

“Anything?”

“Anything you wish.”

Ember hesitated.  “A lighter?”

Lou Ellen nodded.  “That works.  Now, I need you to look at your dagger, and imagine it being a lighter.  But you can’t just imagine it, you have to make yourself believe that it’s a lighter.  What you’re holding in your hand?  It’s not a dagger.  It’s a lighter.  And once you actually believe it, then I want you to begin channeling mana into the dagger, while thinking of it as a lighter.”

The whole thing sounded so stupid, but Ember nodded, turning back to the dagger in her hand.  She took a deep breath and began to think of it as a lighter.  But every single time she did, the image of a dagger would come back into her mind.  And with Lou Ellen piping up, telling her to “concentrate” and “keep your focus”, Ember felt like she was going to explode.  She snarled and gave Lou Ellen a glare.  

“I’m trying!  Can’t I do it while closing my eyes?  It’s hard to look at a dagger and believe it’s a lighter.”

“No.”

Ember breathed, looking back at her dagger.  She took three, long, deep breaths and continued to focus.  Lighter.  Lighter.  The words were being repeated in her mind as she gazed at the dagger, envisioning it as a lighter.  She began to feel a warmth spreading throughout her body as she concentrated, beads of sweat dripping down her face.  Her siblings grew quiet.  

“Now,” came Lou Ellen’s voice, but it was distant.  “Channel.”

Ember began to let her magic slip into the dagger, still concentrating on it as a lighter, what the lighter would feel like in her hands, imagining it’s soft flame and warm glow in darkness.  She imagined the heat of the metal in the sun and the chilliness of it being left out in the cold.  She transferred her mana into the item and suddenly, she was no longer holding a dagger, but a lighter.  

“You don’t have to focus anymore,” Lou Ellen said with a smile.  “It’s done.”

Ember breathed, letting her mind relax as she stepped back a bit. Her head was pounding and aching as she looked at the lighter in her hands.  The daughters of Hecate were instantly on her, grinning and coming up to her, patting her on the back, congratulating her.  Ember's mind was whirring, she couldn't stop smiling.  She had manipulated the mist, she might actually be able to pass Erebos' test.  “How do I get it back into a sword version?” she asked numbly, looking up at Lou Ellen and Ellen shrugged. 

“How do you normally open a lighter?”

Ember flicked the cap up and suddenly she was no longer holding a lighter, but a dagger.  “Woah,” she whispered and she looked back up at Lou Ellen with a grin.  “Can I do that with any item?  Like, carry around a jet as a clutch?”

Lou Ellen laughed.  “No, it has to be Ancient Greek, or something else that a mortal wouldn’t be able to understand.  Now remember, the mist automatically covers over items in our world.  Even without the use of your own power, a mortal could look at a monster and see it as an animal.  Or a sword and see it as a stick.  But in order to create a permanent, physical form for a Greek weapon or item, you have to channel your energy into it as you did just now.”

“What else?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well that can’t be all there is to the mist.”

Lou Ellen.  “You’re right.  You can also manipulate the world around people to be something different.  You can make people see and hear things that aren’t actually there.  If I had my powers, I could make you believe that I was a monster, or someone you know.  I could make you believe that I’m in front of you when in reality I’m behind you.  It’s the same deal as before.  You make yourself believe it, and you can make-”

“Lou,” Elijah’s warning voice came from the darkness as he stepped forward, a frown on his face.  “Ember and I have to go.  It’s getting late, and Erebos can’t know that she is training with you.  He might take it as a sign of weakness.”

Lou Ellen’s eyes narrowed and she nodded.  “Understood,” she looked back at Ember.  “You need to practice what I told you.  Practice on Elijah, on yourself, on anything, but you have to master the mist if you are going to survive Erebos’ trial.  If you fail, if Erebos takes your magic, you’re better off dead.”

Ember paled.  That was the last thing she wanted.  She promised that she wouldn’t fail and looked over as Elijah tugged on her shirt, motioning for her to get moving and she nodded her head at Lou Ellen.  “Thank you,” she turned to the rest of her siblings.  “All of you.  I can’t believe I’ve had so many siblings this entire time...I promise you we’ll get out of here.  And kick Erebos’ ass while we do it.”

“Ember,” Elijah warned and Ember waved a final goodbye and followed Elijah out the door.  “While you were training I scouted out some places where you can practice,” he muttered under his breath as they walked.  “There’s a cavern that oneiroi don’t go into, I use it a lot for my own training, and we can go there during the night and practice.  I don’t mind being a guinipig.”

“Thank you,” Ember said softly.  

“For what?”

“Helping me.  I didn’t think you would give a shit about me, I mean, you’re the one who brought me here.  Not many people have been nice to me since I’ve been here.”

“Consider it returning the favor,” Elijah said gruffly.  He swiftly changed the subject.  “How was it?  Did you learn enough?”

“I think so.”  Ember chewed on her lip.  “I think I’ll be ready after I practice.  But...what if I can’t?  What if I’m not able to learn?  What if I won’t be able to focus enough?”  Panic began to settle in.  “What if he takes my magic?”

“He won’t.”  Elijah’s answer was said without hesitance, without falter as he strode down the tunnel, grey eyes locked on the path ahead of them.  “You’re really strong to have made it this far.  And you’re special.  You’ll be able to do it.  I promise.”  

Ember wanted to believe him.  Ember wanted to believe that she could get through this and not have her magic taken away.  But even if she did pass the test, what then?  What would the ritual bring her?  Was this why Elijah was trying to help her succeed, to make sure the ritual would take place?  Was he leading her to her death?  

So either way, whether she failed or passed this test, she was screwed.  


	28. Cupbearer of the Gods

 

The tower was silent as Ember followed Elijah.  She was fiddling with the lighter in her hand, constantly uncapping it, making it turn into a dagger, and then back into a lighter.  Her mind was still blown.  She couldn’t believe that she had been able to do this.  She wondered what Nathan would want if she did this for him.  He would probably want something cool, like a knife or a black ring.  Catherine would want something useful, like a swiss army knife or a compass.  “What would you want if you had a weapon?” she asked as she followed Elijah down the tunnel.

“What, you mean what I would want as a weapon?”

“Yeah, and it’s mist form.”

Elijah frowned, looking down at his feet as they walked.  Ember was beginning to get used to the constant cold that was around Elijah.  It was like constantly standing in the frozen food aisle at the store when you were near this guy.  “I don’t know,” he finally said.  “I’m not proficient in any weapon.  But if I had to choose, a short sword.  And its mist form, a mechanical pencil.”

“A pencil?” Ember asked with a frown.  “Why a pencil?”

“I sketch.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you show me?” Ember asked excitedly.  Elijah didn’t look like the guy who sketched or did anything creative.  

“No.”

Ember pouted.  She knew she really shouldn’t expect anything else from Elijah, but the words still stung.  “Why the hell not?”

“Because my sketches are private.”  Ember rolled her eyes, drawing an insulting hand gesture behind his back as she followed.  She wondered what he sketched.  Maybe birds and animals, landscapes, objects, people.  She blushed.  Did he ever sketch her?  

Ember could tell they were now out of the servants quarters because the tunnel looked nicer.  Not royal, so she knew that they were not near the throne room, it looked like an average tunnel, with torches on either side lighting their way, with hallways leading down to different rooms.  They must have been underneath the tower, there was no way they could have been able to walk this far without coming to a staircase.  

As they walked, they began to hear noises from up ahead.  Shouting and screeching, hisses and growling and a long, painful yowl from a hound.  She stopped.  “What is that?” she asked, listening.  People were cheering, some were humans, or demigods, and others were the oneiroi.  

Elijah stopped and listened.  “A fight in the arena,” he said simply.  “It’s just kind of a form of entertainment here.  People bet on the fights with drachmas to see who will win and...well, it’s just like any normal fight, really.  Except with monsters.”

“Can we watch?”

Elijah hesitated.  “I don’t think that’s a good idea.  They won’t hurt you when I’m with you, but it’s best that we don’t take the chances.  A lot of the creatures here probably haven’t fed in a while.”

“Please.”

Elijah listened to the shouts for a long while before sighing.  “All right.  But keep close to me.”

They turned down one of the hallways that opened up into a massive room.  It was large enough to pack more monsters than Ember had ever seen, and she could tell that they were monsters, but they flickered in and out of human forms.  Mist.  They were shouting and hollering, watching the arena ahead.  Ember frowned, trying to move around the monsters so that she could see, but there were too many people away.  She could hear the pounding of hooves, and a yowl of a hellhound.  “Can we get closer?” she muttered, trying to squeeze past a monster.  As soon as she touched it, it whirled around, snarling at her and Ember gasped, backing away.  It was a woman, with the lower half of two snake trunks, her skin a scaly green and her hair black and greasy.  

“No shoving!” The drachne hissed, turning her attention back to the fight.

Ember scowled, looking over at Elijah.  “I’m getting closer,” she growled.  She ignored him as he protested, trying to grab at her arm as she began to wriggle her way to the front.  After shoving past a seal-dog looking creature, she finally got up to the front of the arena, and she gazed down.  It was submerged below ground, covered in sand with broken arrow shafts and skulls laying about, the sand smeared with dried blood.  It was obviously never cleaned.

There were two creatures in the arena.  One was a centaur.  Looking more closely, Ember could see that it was the centaur she had seen before with all the monsters at the camp, the dusky colored one with dark hair.  He held a giant axe, a dark, cold grin on his face as he strutted around the arena, gazing at his enemy.

It was a hellhound.  It’s fur was black and matted, fallen out in some places and it was skinny and fragile, eyes red and weak as it whimpered, tripping over itself and backed away, its tail between its legs.  “Fight!” one of the monsters shouted, launching a spear.  It hit the sand beside the hellhound and it yelped, going forward hesitantly, looking like it wanted to fight, but afraid at the same time.  

Ember narrowed her eyes.  That hound...when it turned to face the centaur, the puppy eyes it gave the centaur, pleading with him to not hurt it anymore, she knew why the hound looked familiar.  It was Seether.  

“Just kill it already!” One of the monsters in disguise as a man shouted from the sidelines.  “Let me get my drachmas!”

The centaur smirked and turned towards the pup, raising its axe.  

“No!” Ember screamed.  She shoved past a monster and ran towards the edge of the arena.

“Ember, stop!” Elijah shouted, panic in his voice but Ember was already vaulting over the side of the arena.  She landed hard ten feet below and sprinted towards the two.  She could hear Elijah shouting at the others to move so that he could follow her.  She probably just got them both killed, she had no idea what she was doing, but she had to save Seether.  The centaur was about to kill him.  The beast raised his axe and Ember did the first thing she could think of.

Green flame hit the centaur in the face and he stumbled backwards, his hair on fire as he turned a bemused, shocked face towards her.  It was quickly replaced by rage and anger and he shouted, a blood lust, frenzied shout and raced towards her, axe out in front of him.  Ember gasped, ducking to the side as the axe lodged into the ground beside her.  She was now on the ground, prone and the thing towered ten feet above her.  She heard a shout and she looked over, spotting Elijah being held back by a couple laughing monsters as he fought frantically to get away from them and back to Ember.  No one was going to be helping her.  

The centaur yanked its axe out of the ground and turned towards her, his eyes frenzied as he swung the axe towards her head.  

It was intercepted by an arrow hitting the pommel and the centaur dropped it with a cry of surprise, the blade landing inches away from Ember’s toes and she squeaked, jumping back.

“What’s going on here, Asbolos?” Shayne jumped into the arena, an ebon bow in his hands as he approached the dark centaur, who gruffly picked up his axe, glaring at Shayne.  Ember’s heart was pounding as she picked herself up, relief flooding over her.  If Shayne hadn’t come, she would be dead.  

“I was going to kill the hound,” Asbolos growled, gesturing at Seether who stood whimpering by the arena edge, his tail between his legs.  Ember’s heart sank and she approached the hellhound slowly, barely listening as Asbolos and Shayne bickered back and forth.  

“Seether?” Ember whispered.  She could hear the angered shouts from the crowd and they startled Seether, making him bristle and snarl at her.  His face and back were covered in scars and scratches, from whips, from claws.  He had been through hell.  Ember felt a pang of guilt.  They abandoned him to this.  His warning snarl jolted her back to reality.

“Seether,” she said again, more gently this time.  “Please.  It’s me.”  She was now only a couple feet away from Seether.  He didn’t seem to recognize her, fear and panic in his eyes as he dug his claws threateningly into the sand.  Ember knew she was probably going to get her hand bitten off.  She probably deserved it, but she stuck out her palm for him to sniff.  

Seether growled uncertainly, pacing back and forth as he watched her palm, looking like he was going through a fight or flight conflict.  Finally though, with his tail between his legs, he walked forward a few paces and sniffled her palm hesitantly.  “That’s it,” Ember whispered.  “Seether.”

Seether leaped on her.  Ember screamed, thinking that the hound was attacking her, but then she felt a rough tongue scraping across her face and she grinned wildly.  Recognition swept into the hound’s eyes suddenly, and they lit up with a new excitement as his tongue lapped at face, drool slobbering all over her.  She didn’t even care.  “Good boy!” she laughed, scratching the hound behind his ears and he gave a “woof!” falling over onto his back so that she could get at his belly.  

_“Don’t leave me again!”_

The voice came into Ember’s mind and she jumped, startled and Seether sat up, cocking his head curiously, watching her while thumping his tail down on the sand.

Ember watched him with her jaw gaping open.  “Did you just...” she couldn’t finish her sentence though, because Elijah’s voice came crying over the arena.  

“Ember!”  Elijah was finally able to wrestle away from the monsters and he leaped down into the arena, rolling as he hit the ground and he was quickly on his feet, running over to her.  “Are you okay?” he slowed down as he neared her, mainly because Seether snarled viciously and Elijah froze, looking up at Ember in confusion.

“He’s not a bad guy, Seether,” Ember soothes, rubbing Seether’s back and the hound snarled once more at Elijah before tromping behind Ember, still glaring at the black haired boy.

“Uh...” Elijah muttered, watching Seether.  “What the hell?”

“Long story.”

“Ember!”  Shayne came walking up, a disgruntled, irritated look on his gorgeous face.  “What do you think you’re doing?!  You could have gotten yourself killed.”

“I had to save Seether!”

“Seether?”

“My hellhound.”  As if to prove that Seether was hers, the hound jumped up to give her another lick and Ember grinned, lowering him down and scratching underneath his chin.  “We met before I got to camp.”

There was some gruff arguments going on from above the arena and Shayne looked over cautiously at the monsters who were glowering down at them, hateful and angered at having their entertainment interrupted.  “I think I will escort you back to your room.”

“I was already doing that,” Elijah said coolly, moving in front of Ember.  “We don’t need your help.”

“You let her get into this mess.”  Shayne towered over Elijah.  On the outside, he would look way more intimidating, tall with ripped muscles and a huge bow that he could use expertly in his hand.  But Elijah looked just as intimidating, an icy look in his grey eyes as he glared up at Shayne from almost a foot below.  

“Ganymede!”  Shayne spun around.  Asbolos was up with the crowd now, pointing his axe at Shayne.  “She will pay for this interference!  Erebos will have her blood!”

“Not today,” Shayne growled.  “Don’t tempt me to put my next arrow through your throat, Asbolos.”  

Asbolos stiffened.  He looked like he wanted to chuck his axe across the arena and nail Shayne in the head, but he thought better of it, instead he growled angrily and shoved past the monsters to go down a tunnel and he was gone.  Shayne breathed, looking back down at Elijah, his eyes hard.  “I am taking Ember,” he said, his voice leaving no room for debate.  

 

“I thought you were taking me to my room?”  Ember’s hand rested on Seether’s back as the two stepped into a garden.  

The garden sat outside at the base of the tower.  It was beautiful and scary at the same time, with trees with black bark, gnarled and curled growing up from hard rock, with dark purple flowers growing on their twisted branches without leaves.  A silver arbor stood in the center of the garden with dark vines curling up the wood and around.  Ember wanted to touch it, or smell one of the flowers, but from the way Seether cowered when they got close to one, she knew better than to do so.

“I figured we should probably let your hound move around a bit,” Shayne said, sitting down on a bench beside a fountain, clear water spurting up from the ground, up above a statue of Erebos holding a dagger in one hand and a scepter in the other, and back into the pool around its base.  “So how did you two meet?”

Ember sat beside Shayne and told him her story.  How she used to live at an orphanage before it was attacked, and how she and Nathan met Seether on the edge of a highway.  Shayne whistled.  “If you weren’t a daughter of Hecate and if Nathan wasn’t a son of Hades, that pup would have eaten you two alive.”

“What does being a daughter of Hecate have to do with anything?”

“Your mom created dogs.  Seether might be a hell hound, but he’s still a hound.  You have power over him, just like how Poseidon kids have power over horses.”

Ember hesitated.  “He spoke to me.  Through the mind, I heard him.”

“Yeah, I can imagine that you two would be able to communicate telepathically.”

“That is really cool.”  They watched as Seether began to tromp around happily in the garden, trying to dig into the ground like any other pup would, only disappointed to find that the ground was as hard as cement.  It was odd, being outside but not hearing birds, not feeling a breeze on your face.  But she supposed there weren't any birds or breezes in the Underworld.  At least, not here.  She heard a crack of lightning and she turned her gaze to the massive chasm a few miles off, the flashes of light coming from the depths and she shivered, looking ahead.  

Remembering something, she looked up at Shayne with a frown.  “Why did he call you Ganymede?”

Shayne stiffened for a moment before letting an easy smile slip onto his face.  “It’s nothing,” he assured her.  

“You’re a liar.”

Shayne watched the distance with a faraway gaze.  He didn’t answer for a long time, and finally he gave a sigh and ran a hand through his blonde hair.  “All right,” he said.  “You got me.  My name isn’t Shayne.  I’m Ganymede.  From the myths, from the legends.”

Ember probably looked bewildered, because he laughed.  “All right.  I should probably start from the beginning.  I used to be the Prince of Troy-”

“Wait, so now you’re a prince?”

“Yeah.  Anyways, I used to be the Prince of Troy.  Heir to the throne.  My father didn’t know I was not his, my mother was able to conceal my true heritage to keep me from being killed, so I was going to become King when he stepped down.”  He sighed.  “I never liked the royal life.  It was too busy, too much to handle.  So I would go out and herd my sheep.”

“You were a sheep herding prince.”

“Yes.  I would go out on the hills outside Troy and herd my sheep and pretend that everything was right with the world.”  He cringed.  “And one day, _he_ came.”

“Who?”

“Zeus.  He came down in the form of an eagle.  I didn’t know what was going on, I just saw a giant bird, so I ran.  He plucked me up from that hill and that was the last time I ever saw it.  He took me up to Olympus, where he told me that I was to forever be his cupbearer.”  Shayne smiled darkly.  “He made it sound like it was supposed to be a favor.  That serving them would be the best opportunity of my life.”

“That sounds horrible.”

“Oh, it gets better.  Zeus grabbed me because I’m beautiful-”

“They say Ganymede is the most beautiful human being that ever lived.”

“Do they?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s great.  As I was saying, Zeus grabbed me because I was beautiful.  Mythology says that I was his homosexual lover.”  Darkness clouded his eyes.  “There was no love.  Zeus wanted someone pretty and I was better looking than his wife, I suppose.”

“So you were raped by Zeus?”

“Yes.”

“And then what?”

“I didn’t do anything.  They gave me immortality, sure, but there was nothing I could do.  I couldn’t say no to a God.  So I went along with everything that he wanted.  I made love with him, I brought him his goblets, I was there when he asked me to fetch wine for his guests and wife.  I did everything he asked.”  Shayne’s nostrils flared.  “But I’ve been training.”

“Training?”

“Yes.  Every moment I had away from Zeus in the millenias that I was his cupbearer, I have been training to kill.  To kill Gods, to kill immortals, to kill Zeus himself.”  Ember looked nervously up into the sky, expecting Shayne to be struck down.  But she supposed Zeus didn’t have any power here, in the realm of the dead.  She blinked, looking up at him.

“That’s why you’re here.  To take down the Gods.”

“Yes.  I would still be here if it wasn’t for...” he trailed off.  

“If it wasn’t for...?”

“The most beautiful woman alive.  She saved me, brought me down from Olympus and introduced me to Erebos and his cause.  And so here I am.”  The conversation must have struck too close to home, because he stood up, giving a stretch and arched his back.  How old was he?  He must have been over three thousand years old...great.  She was crushing on a guy that was way too old for her.  “You should probably let Seether sleep with you,” he said, nodding to the black pup that was on its back, pawing playfully at a dark butterfly that fluttered above him.  “Asbolos was furious that you stole his kill.  I don’t know what he might do.”

Ember nodded, standing up and she spoke Seether’s name.  The hound poked its head up, ears straight and let its tongue droop out of his mouth as he pranced up to Ember, rubbing his head up against her leg.  

_“Hi, Ember!”_

The voice, Seether’s voice, came into her head and she jolted.  Shayne’s brow raised as she swallowed and smiled.  “Hi, Seether,” she whispered, giving his neck a hug and Shayne motioned towards the large, black gates.  

“We should get moving.”

 

“Is there anything you might need?” Shayne asked as Seether paced around her room, smelling her clothes and the corners of her room, wagging his tail.

Ember lay in her bed, underneath the covers and she shook her head.  “Nope.  I think I’m good.”

Shayne nodded.  “All right.  If you ever need me, I’m an Iris message away,” he dug around in his pocket and pulled out a gold coin, tossing it to her.  “It won’t reach outside the Underworld, so you can’t talk to your friends.  Sorry.  Night, Ember.”  He smiled gently.  “And try not to get into anymore trouble.”  

“So do you want me to call you Shayne or Ganymede?”

Shayne grinned.  “Shayne is good.  Ganymede is nothing more than a memory, now.”  He closed the door and the room went quiet.

Ember rolled onto her side and patted the bed beside her.  “Seether!” she whispered and the hound looked up.  “Get up here!”

Seether seemed to smile as he leaped up onto the bed, his paws landing on Ember’s stomach and she gave an ‘oof!’ and grimaced as he padded around, looking for a place to sleep.   _“I’m allowed to stay?”_ the voice in her head sounded like that of a perky twelve year old.  

 _I can’t believe I’m talking to a dog,_ Ember thought.  She nodded.  “Yeah...Seether, I’m so sorry for leaving you behind.  Nathan and I...we shouldn’t have done that.”

Seether seemed to shrug as he found a place next to Ember, laying his head on her stomach and he gave a yawn and stretched out.   _“It’s okay,”_ he said, his voice sleepy as he closed his eyes.   _“Just don’t do it again.”_

Ember hugged her hound.  “I won’t.  I promise.”


	29. Shadows of the Past

Mason hadn't seen the tail until Zack cried at them to duck.  Duck, he knew what it meant but he wanted to see what he was ducking from first.  So he turned around, to have a tail catch him in the gut, launching him off the rig and into the water.  He didn’t even have time to think.  As soon as he landed with a splash in the river, he was engulfed in pain. If you could scream underwater, he was screaming his head off, writhing and curling up, his skin bubbling and churning like acid as his body began to dissolve. Numbly, he tried to think of the Styx. 

A blessing, you needed one, he never got one, his mother was dead. 

Lifeline, lifeline. 

He couldn't think of a lifeline. Only about the pain that was wracking his body, letting him think of nothing else except the fire that was coursing through his veins and engulfing his flesh. He struggled to try to swim. His legs kicked uselessly. He couldn't even tell which way was up. Everything was dark and black, like he was closing his eyes, but the water was burning his eyeballs and he closed them shut with a hiss, which resulted in precious bubbles being released from between his lips.  He was dying.  

_ Keep breathing. Keep your heart beating. Keep it beating, damn it. _

He focused on his heart.  His body.  He had to stay alive.  He couldn't allow himself to stay here.  He thought of his friends.  Of Camp Half Blood.  But most of all, he thought of his father.  Whoever he was. He couldn't die without knowing who he was.  He couldn't die believing that he was just a nobody that was never claimed, just an unmarked grave among hundreds of no-name graves. He had to discover himself. 

_ Keep your heart beating.  _ He opened his eyes as a golden light began to seep through his eyelids.  The pain had lessened, and his body had a faint golden glow, like there was a candle inside his body, keeping him alit. He could see the surface, and he kicked his legs. 

He launched himself out of the water, his hand, raw and red as if he had a chemical burn, grasping onto the edge of the boat.  He scrambled on board, gasping. His entire body was on fire. 

“Woah!”  Suddenly, Zack was aiming a bow at his head, looking torn between shoot or hug.  Mason wanted to tell him to lower it, that he was all right, to relax, but he couldn't. He could only collapse on the ground, gagging, spitting out the black water that he had been choking on and shuddered, gasping as he tried to breathe. 

“Zack, knock it off, it’s Mason!” Nathan snapped, shoving Zack out of the way as he fell down beside Mason.  “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Mason muttered, propping himself up on the side of the boat.

Zack was watching Mason warily from where he stood, conflict raging on his face, but finally he lowered his bow and placed it tentatively on the side of the boat.  “You should be dead,” he muttered as Mason choked on water, spitting it up on the bottom of the boat.  Even Bob and Arnold were looking over at him curiously.

“Demigods are hard to kill,” Mason sputtered weakly, wiping his lip.  

Zack didn’t say anything though as he leaped up on the railing, looking out over the mist.  The son of Apollo squinted and then pointed.  “Land ho!” he said, pointing across the water.  Mason and Nathan stood up and Mason frowned.  He couldn’t see land, but Nathan and Zack had an advantage here, Zack with archer eyes and Nathan being able to see in the dark.  

“How far away is it?” Mason asked and Zack shook his head.  

“Close.”  

Mason looked down into the water with a sigh.  “I lost my sword,” he muttered, rubbing his head.  He looked up at the other two.  “Do you guys have anything I could use?”

Zack nodded, drawing a dagger out of a sheath on his hip and tossed it to Mason.  “Will this be okay?”

Mason tossed the dagger around and nodded.  “Yeah, this should be fine.”  He looked up as the shore began to come into view through the mist.  And the Fields of Asphodel that ran along the shore.  Miles and miles of fields that went up to your waist.  There was something about it that was off.  Then he knew.  The blades of grass were still and silent.  There was no whistle of the wind and swaying of the grass.  There was no breeze, no life.  Just empty fields.  

Bob and Arnold rowed the boat up to the edge of the Stx and Zack stumbled a bit as the boat crashed into the shore and he jumped onto the boat.  Mason put an arm out to steady Zack and Zack lurched like Mason had burned him and Mason frowned, drawing his hand away.  He gave the son of Apollo a questioning look but Zack avoided Mason’s eyes as he turned to Nathan.

“You tell us when to get off, Captain.”

Nathan shrugged helplessly.  “Now, I suppose.”

The three demigods carefully stepped off the boat, jumping onto the shore and Mason cringed as his boot sank a little in mud and he quickly hopped onto firmer land.  He didn’t need to fall into the River Styx again.  There were some creaks from the skeletons and the three turned around to see Bob and Arnold watching them patiently.  “Uh,” Zack muttered, looking over at Nathan.  “Do they want something?”

“They want to be excused.”  Mason watched as Nathan stepped to the shore of the Styx.  Bob and Arnold seemed to straighten, like their boss was on deck and Nathan waved his hand like he was slicing something across the air and the two skeletons dipped their paddles into the water, rowing away from the shore.

“Wait, how are we going to get back through the doors without them?” Zack asked with concern, stepping forward.

“They will come to me whenever I ask,” Nathan said, his face an emotionless mask as the boat disappeared into the fog.  

The three turned towards the fields, an eerie silence rushing over them as they stared out over the grasses.  “Do you know where we are?” Mason muttered to Nathan, who closed his eyes, lifting his chin a bit like he was drawing in the place, his brow knit in concentration.

Finally, Nathan gave a chuckle and opened his dark eyes.  “Weirdly, I do,” he said with a sigh.  “The Shadowspire isn’t far from here, to be honest.  A couple days.”

“That is really convenient,” Zack said with his brow raised and Nathan shrugged.

“The Underworld is a condensed world.  It spreads out as far as the mortal world, but it’s smaller, if that makes sense.  Everything is packed together, which means that everything is very close to each other.  And by a couple days, I mean about four.”

“Too long,” Mason muttered.  “The girls will be dead by the time we get there.”

Nathan gave a shrug.  “Nothing else we can do except go.  Come on.”

The three fell into a gloomy silence as they began to trek through the fields.  By  now, the only one who seemed comfortable in the Underworld was Nathan.  He looked like he was born for the place. Zack meanwhile was very good at making himself look confident but Mason had been friends with the guy long enough to know that he was nervous.  And Mason too was nervous, but not because of where they were.  He brought his hand up to his heart with a cringe.

What had happened down there?

Zack must have seen the gesture because he drifted away from Mason so that he was walking side by side with the boy.  He brought his blue eyes down to where Mason was clutching on his shirt and Mason quickly dropped his hand.  He didn’t want to concern Zack, but it was already too late.  

“How are you alive?”  Zack was being serious.  There was no joking tone in his voice and he was watching Mason like he was looking at a burial shroud and Mason sighed, giving a shrug.

“I don’t know.”

“Do you think you have....?”

“I’m not sure.  I never got a blessing, I didn’t choose a spot...”  _ Or maybe I did, _ he thought, thinking back to his heart.  “I guess we won’t know until we get into a scrap.”

“What if I shot you with an arrow?  Like, in the foot and we’ll see if the arrow bounces off.”

Mason grinned.  “No thanks, I don’t think I’m ready to take that chance.”  He spotted something over Zack’s shoulder and Mason stumbled a bit.  “Look,” he said, pointing and the three boys turned around.

There was a figure in the distance.  An old man, wearing dirty overalls and his face was covered in soot.  A miner, an old time miner and he still held his pick up against his shoulder as the old man regarded him curiously before drifting away.  A ghost.  It was easy to tell that he was a ghost, he glowed a light blue and he was transparent, Mason had been able to see the grass through the man’s clothes and body.  He shouldn’t have been surprised.  The Fields of Asphodel were where most souls go, people who hadn’t done anything grand or spectacular with their lives.  For the people who just lived and did nothing, they were destined to live a life of wandering these endless fields.  It was pretty harsh.

Nathan had told them that the Shadowspire wasn’t in the Fields of Asphodel.  The son of Hades was actually able to give them a surprisingly detailed description of where the Shadowspire was.  Past the Fields of Asphodel and on the edge of the Fields of Punishment, beside the chasm of Tartarus.  A many day trip from where they were now.  

As demigods, they were trained to be able to move and run for long periods of time without getting exhausted, but going on six hours, Mason was beginning to feel a drag in his steps, his eyes drooping and he heard Zack give a yawn.  

“I wish we could see the sky,” Zack said sleepily, looking up towards the dark ceiling above them coated with dark clouds.  “We could tell what time it is.”

Mason gave a stretch, his back cracking.  “11:14 P.M.”  

“Thanks.  It’s still late.”

“We have to keep going,” Nathan said, glancing around.  “The Fields of Asphodel, at least this part, isn’t the best place to take a nap.  We should get further in before we stop.”

They continued to walk until they got to a point where Mason was practically dragging Zack who looked like he was going to pass out.  And Mason couldn’t blame them.  Zack had been using his powers to light their way for the whole day, he was probably exhausted.

“Nathan,” Mason sighed.  Nathan was trekking ahead, the hood of his jacket pulled up over his head as the fog seemed to cling to him and swirl around the son of Hades and Nathan turned around.

“What?”

“We need to rest.”  

Nathan gave a sigh and nodded and Zack gave a groan of pleasure as he dropped to the ground and into the grass, curling up.  Mason leaned down, pulling a thin blanket from his backpack and he spread it out over the grass that Zack had flattened.  “There,” he muttered, sitting down and he pulled out a case of oreos.  “Anyone hungry?”

They didn’t speak as they sat down on the blanket, nibbling on the ends of oreos.  They were all too engulfed in their own emotions.  Mason, and wondering what had happened to him in the river.  Nathan, and how at home he felt in the Underworld.  Zack, and how much he despised the Underworld. 

Mason decided that he would take first watch and Nathan and Zack nodded happily, snuggling down onto the blankets, sleeping as far away from each other as they could before going to sleep almost instantly.  They must have been exhausted.  Mason waited for them to go to sleep before he reached into his bag, pulling Zack’s dagger and he stared at himself in the reflection.  He didn’t look any different.  He still looked like same old Mason.

He hesitated.  “I must be insane,” he muttered.  He closed his eyes and sliced the dagger across his wrist.

The blade bounced off his skin like he had hit metal and Mason stiffened, his eyes widening.  “Shit,” he whispered, dropping the dagger and it clattered on the ground as he stood up.  “What the hell...”

“So you have it.”

Mason turned around and Zack was sitting up, watching him warily and Mason sighed and nodded.  “Yeah,” he muttered, looking down.  “I guess I do.”

“What spot did you choose?”

Mason hadn’t consciously chosen a spot, but he knew which the Curse of Achilles and he lifted up his hand to his heart, closing his eyes.

Zack snorted.  “Really?  Of all spots you could have chosen, you chose the one that people would go for the most?”

“Yeah.”

Zack laughed darkly and shook his head.  “Nice, man.”  Zack froze and Mason turned around to where Zack was looking and he jumped up, going for his dagger.  Behind them stood ghosts.  There must have been more than ten of them, standing and watching them cautiously and Mason felt a chill go down his spine.  Were they here because they overheard Mason telling Zack where his spot was?  Were they here to hurt him?

“Nathan,” he muttered, kicking the son of Hades awake and Nathan sputtered, rolling over sleepily and Nathan frowned, jumping up as he spotted the ghosts as well, stepping forward with a frown.

“What are you doing here?” he asked the ghosts.  “What do you need?”

The ghosts parted and a woman stepped from the center, crossing to them with a sad smile touching her lips, a motherly glint in her blue eyes.  

Mason choked, taking a step backwards.  He knew this woman.  The last time he had seen her, he had watched as fire fell on her and she was engulfed in flames.  His mother.

Mason for a long moment could do nothing but stare at his deceased mother. She was smiling softly, but was doing nothing to start a conversation with her teenage son. His mind was whirring.  So she really was dead.  He had hoped that she had escaped the fire, that one day they would end up being reunited, that everything would be all right and they could be a family again, but that was never going to happen. He was first hit with a pang of grief. His dead mother was here. He hadn't seen her in years...and even worse, she was in the fields of Ashodel. As a hero he was going to Elysium. Which meant they would never see each other again. Then there was guilt. After everything she has done to keep him safe, it's he that deserved to die, not her. Then there was suspicion. There were no coincidences when it came to the life of a demigod...but he wouldn't spoil this moment between them. He hadn't seen her in years...all he could do was just stare at her in amazement, like if he turned away or blinked she would suddenly disappear.

He took a deep breath, slowly approaching the wavy brown haired woman. He didn't hug her or touch her. It would almost be like breathing life back into her which was worse. Instead he gazed at her with red eyes and he coughed, about to speak, but the woman was already ahead of him. "You've grown up so much," she said softly, reaching out a hand to touch his face. Instinctively, Mason took a step back, and the woman sighed, retracting her hand. "You've gotten so handsome." Mason blushed and rubbed the back of his neck. He had been young when his mother died...she still looked the same. Lithe with curly brown hair and she wore her gardening apron, with the dirty jeans and the dark green rubber gloves that she would wear to pull up the heavy duty plants. She had always worked so hard on her garden, even in the wind and rain she would be on her hands and knees working on it. 

He took a deep breath and took a step closer to his mother, bringing his eyes up to meet hers. She gave a soft smile as she understood what he was trying to tell her and she pressed her hand against his cheek and he leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. He could barely feel it, like leaning against mist, but the touch was there and she brought it up to ruffle his wavy brown hair like she used to do when he was a child. "So grown," she murmured again, looking at him. 

He finally choked, but swallowed his tears as he stood a bit taller. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I...I'm sorry I couldn't...that I didn't..." he shushed himself as she gave him a hug and he hesitated before putting his arms around her, and then like a child buried his head into her shoulder. They stayed like that until he slowly broke away from her. He couldn't be close to her, unless he wanted to be throwing up.  He could see Zack and Nathan out of the corner of his eyes, watching him and his mother.  Zack’s jaw was dropped and Nathan’s was tight and his face was hard, like he was watching a bad memory.  

"Why are you all here?" he whispered, looking around at the ghosts. This was no coincidence. Someone close to Ravyn, to Dahvia, to himself, Gwen was close to everyone, a common friend of the camp. He looked up at 

"We did not all come here by chance," she admitted and she gestured into the distance. "Before you lies the fields of punishment. Where you will find Apollo." That got Zack's attention and the blonde stiffened, his fingers curling around an arrow on his back. "But Mason..." she hesitated. "You will find enemies there that you may not be able to beat. And a trap." Mason's eyes narrowed. "You must be on your guard, be careful." She raised her voice so that the other demigods could hear her, the woman’s eyes brushing over them all. "Trust in each other. You can no longer afford to fight among yourselves. The true enemy isn't among you. It's all around you. In the corners and in holes in the earth. Your enemy is darkness, children."

“How do I have the curse?”  Mason knew that it wasn’t relevent to the conversation, but he couldn’t have this bothering him anymore.  It was going to drive him insane.

But his mother sighed as if she was expecting the question.  “Come here.”

Mason did what his mother asked, hesitantly, but as soon as he got close enough, she touched his temple and he was somewhere else.

He was a child.  His home was on fire, with burning rafters falling from the ceiling and little Mason screamed, huddled in a corner.  He looked up as a cloaked figure stepped into the room, through the flames.  Mason couldn’t see his face.  He wore black, stygian ice gauntles  and he drew a jagged, curved blade from his sheath, his face shadowed in the cowl of his cloak.

Mason gave a whimper as he tried to fold in on himself in his corner, the heat pressing up against him when his mother flew out of the ash with a shout, driving a celestial bronze blade into the creature’s back and it hissed, dissolving into ash and Mason’s mother scooped him up.  She wore an apron, dirty jeans and work gloves.  “Mason!” she shouted, picking him up and he cried out, wrapping his arms tightly around her neck.  

Mason watched with his heart pounding.  He barely remembered this.  He really only remembered his fear, the feeling of the flames close to his face, the smell of ash and soot.  To be watching it again...

His mother ran into the livingroom and skidded to a stop as burning rubble fell from the ceiling, blocking off their entrance.  “Shit!” she whispered.  She was spinning around, the flames closing in and little Mason gave a cry of pain as a piece of burning rubble fell on his shirt.  The fabric immediately erupted in flames and Mason’s mother gasp, beating at Mason’s shoulder to put the fire out as Mason screamed.  

The wall exploded as a figure stepped into the room through the flames, rearing up to put a fire below him out.  A man, with brown hair and a bushy brown beard, with the lower half of a white stallion.  “Margery!” Chiron shouted through the flames.  “Have you done it?!”

Margery shook her head, holding Mason close to her.  “No, I can’t!”

“You have to.”  Chiron reared up as the ceiling collapsed beside him and the two looked away as smoke exploded around them.  “You know what he is meant to do.”

A bow was suddenly in Chiron’s hand and Margery spun around.  Three cloaked figures stepped through the smoke, seeming to be cloaked in shadow as they drew their blades.

Through tears in her eyes, Margery glared at the creatures, these beasts and she looked up at the ceiling.  Chiron looked up to where she was pointing and his eyes widened, snapping them down to Margery.  “Margery, no!”

Margery grasped her sword tightly in her hands with a cry, threw it like a javeline up at the ceiling.  It hit a weak spot and a crack went up along the ceiling.  Before Chiron could react, Margery practically threw Mason towards the centaur and Chiron caught him quickly, backing away as the ceiling collapsed, flaming rubble and rafters coming and falling down on Margery and in front of the entry way, the screeches of the creatures in the doorway following.  

There was soot and smoke that hung in the air, and a silence.  

Chiron stepped through the rubble, looking down at Margery who lay pinned underneath the rubble, blood trickling from her lips.  “Vyrkolokas,” she whispered, her eyes closed.  “You wouldn’t...you wouldn’t have been able to fight them.  Only way.”

Chiron nodded grimly, letting Mason go and the child toddled over to his mother, putting his hands on her arm.  “Mom?” he asked curiously, looking down at her.  “Get up!”

“Mason, I’m so sorry,” Mason’s mother sobbed, tears welling at her eyes.  “This is all my fault, he warned me this would happen, he told me what would happen...” she grasped his hand, pulling the child closer so that she could plant a kiss on his forehead.  “I’m so sorry.”

“Margery,” Mason’s mother looked up at Chiron who watched her from above, his face black with soot.  “It must be done.”

Margery nodded and Chiron stooped down, picking up Mason who shouted in defiance, trying to get back to his mother and Margery choked on her tears, putting a hand to her mouth.  “I’m sorry.”  Chiron placed Mason on his back and looked down at Margery.  He looked like he wanted to say something, but Margery stooped down, picking up a flaming piece of wood and looked like she was threatening to beat Chiron with it.  “Go!  Please!”  

Chiron nodded grimly, and Mason looked over at her, frenzied fear in his eyes.  “Mom!” he cried and the two jumped through the hole in the wall, and the hole closed as rafters fell from the ceiling.  Mason and Chiron were gone. 

Margery lowered her head, closing her eyes as she heard the creaks from above.  The ceiling was going to fall.  “I love you,” she whispered with a choke, her lungs gunked with ash and smoke.  She opened her eyes.  She could see the tiniest slit in the wall, and Chirons retreating figure.  And for one moment, she could see Mason’s dirty, tear streaked face.  “Mason,” she said softly.  “I give you my blessing.”

The ceiling above cracked, and the ceiling fell on top of her and the world went black.  

 

Mason opened his eyes, tears streaming down his face.  He was back in the Fields of Asphodel, and he looked up at his mother who was also crying, a sad smile on her face as she held his face.  “You knew,” he choked.  “You knew this would happen.”  She nodded and Mason gritted his teeth, lowering his head.  

"You're always frowning," she said quietly. "You didn't frown so much when you were younger." Mason gave a dry laugh. 

"Things changed," he muttered. Although he was trying to keep emotion off his face, he couldn't help the tears, the pain. He gave a shuddering sigh and closed his eyes, taking a breath before looking up at his mother.  “I love you,” he choked, biting his lip to keep himself from crying.

His mother didn't say anything. She just gave a tender smile, took his head in her hands and kiss the top of his forehead, then wrapped him in a hug. "I love you too, Mason." 

She was going to leave.  Mason could see it as she began to back away, but before she did, Nathan stepped up quickly.  “Wait!”

Margery couldn’t disobey a direct order from a son of Hades and she looked up at him curiously.  “Yes?”

“My mother...” Nathan swallowed.  Mason realized that Nathan had also been crying and he took a deep breath.  “She’s here.  Can you please tell her I would like to talk to her?  Please.”

Margery shook her head.  “I’m sorry, Nathan.  I can’t.”

Nathan narrowed his eyes and snarled.  “Why the hell not?!” he shouted.  “All you have to do is find her and tell her that I, you know, her son, wants to talk to her and she’ll-”

“Nathan,” Margery was smiling softly.  “I can’t tell her, because she isn’t here.”

Nathan froze and Margery gave him one more smile and looked towards Mason.  She uttered the smallest, “I love you,” before closing her eyes.  She and the other spirits dissipated, turning into wisps of golden smoke and then there was nothing.

There was silence.  Mason sat down on the grass, his heart pounding as tears fell from his eyes.  His mother sacrificed herself to save him.  

Nathan fell to his knees.  He watched the ground with his mouth open, looking like he was going to be sick.  “My mother...” he looked up at Mason, tears welling at his eyes.  “She’s alive.”


	30. Lost Blood

After Mason’s mother had disappeared, they decided that they would let him get some sleep and Nathan would take the next watch.  

Nathan made sure he didn’t let his emotions escape him.  He kept his face a mask of emotions as he sat on the grass and took watch.  Like he didn’t feel anything.  But on the inside, Nathan felt like he was going to explode.   He had seen his mother die...or he thought he had.  All of these years, he had believed that his mother was dead.  That he was an orphan, or at least as much of an orphan as you can be with an immortal father.  And now to be told that his mother was live and out there somewhere...he had to find her.  Somehow.  

But where the hell was she?  She must have lost him during the attack, because otherwise she would have tried to find him, wouldn’t she?  

He shook Zack awake and the son of Apollo moaned, looking up at Nathan who knelt down.  “I’m getting tired, Sunshine,” Nathan said and Zack groaned but nodded, sitting up and Nathan went over to his bedroll which he had laid out over the ground.  He pulled the thin blanket over his head and rolled over, watching Zack for a moment.  The guy seemed upset.  He sat crosslegged in the grass, watching the distance with a rare frown.  

“Are you okay?” Nathan asked and Zack looked over with a nod.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t you have anyone down here?” he asked, gesturing around them and Zack glanced over at them and gave a small smile with a shake of his head.  

“Nah.  My family is still alive.”  He hesitated.  “Well.  Except for my parakeet.”  The blonde boy looked around warily, as if he was expecting an undead bird to swoop down from the trees and attack him.  Nathan grinned and looked away.

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”  Nathan closed his eyes.  He remembered the night he was with Ember in the field.  Before they met Seether.  He could remember the texture of the grass.  Stiff yet soft.  He could remember the breeze flowing through the grass, making them whisper in his ear.  None of that was here.  A dead silence.

 

Zack shook Nathan’s shoulder roughly and Nathan jolted, opening his eyes and looking up at Zack and waved the guy away, sitting up with a stretch.  He didn’t know how long he had been asleep, but even a few hours made him feel that much better.  Like he wasn’t going to fall over.  

Nathan looked over to Mason and he gave a sigh.  The guy looked pretty upset.  Understandably so.  They should get moving before the depression got to Mason.  He breathed, standing up and crossed over to Mason and put his hand on the guy’s shoulder.  Mason didn’t respond.

“It’s time to go,” he said, and Mason gave a nod, standing up and shouldered his supplies.  Nathan crossed to his blade which he had dropped in the grass and he picked it up, running his thumb over the blade and slid it into his leather sheath, turning back to Zack and Mason.  It would appear he was going to be leading for now.  Zack...well, the only thing he could lead was a singalong and Mason was too emotionally distressed at the moment.  So Nathan was the one to take charge.  

“We’re still a ways away from the Fields of Punishment,” he said coolly.  “But if we move fast, we might be able to get there in time.”

“You okay there, brother?” Zack asked with a grin, thumping Mason on the back and the unclaimed demigod cringed.  Nathan shot the guy a glare, but Mason gave him a pained smile.

“Yeah.  Once we get moving, I’ll be better.”

Zack grinned and the three demigods started moving.  

"Well, if no one has a preference," he said, strumming his fingers along the lyre. "I guess that means I can go ahead and choose."  Now which one? There were so many camp songs that he had remembered. He hesitated. For an odd reason, a tune began to form in his mind. Not a happy one, not the one that he would have wanted to listen to right now while they were walking through the Underworld.  [ Mad World ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Oa-ae6_okmg) .  He hesitated, already formulating some lyrics in his head. Not a camp song. One that was more...relatable to what they were doing, where they were going. He took a breath, strumming his fingers along the lyre, playing the telltale introductory tune to Mad World. But when he started to sing, it was obviously a cover, not the original song. 

"All around me are translucent faces, haunted places, ghostly faces. Worn and weary from their midnight paces, drifting nowhere, drifting nowhere." His voice echoed into the darkness of the Underworld. 

"Their cries are driving me crazy, no expression, no expression. Hide my head I want to drown their sorrow, no tomorrow, no tomorrow. And I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad. In a land where they're all dying, I have to watch them all go mad. I find it hard to help you, this pain I've tried to take. When ghosts wander in circles, it's a very, very sad world sad world." He spared a glance over at Mason and Nathan to see if they were enjoying the music. He couldn't quite get a grip on what they were feeling, so he closed his eyes, took a shuddering breath and strummed his fingers across the chords again. 

"Specters waiting for the light they've searched for, light that guides them, light that holds them. And I act the way that every hero should, guard and protect, guard and protect. Went down low and I was very nervous, they all knew me, they all knew me. Please tell me what I can do to help you, look right through you, look right through you." The notes were getting louder as Zack got into the song, now walking with his eyes closed, his fingers automatically finding the notes and chords. 

"And I find it kinda funny, I find it kinda sad. In a land where they're all dying, I have to watch them all go mad. I find it hard to help you, this pain I've tried to take. When ghosts wander in circles, it's a very, very sad world, sad world." He stopped playing for a moment, walking with a drag in his feet and he took a sigh, whispering the last lines. "Getting lost in this sad world."

“What the hell, Zack?” Nathan growled, giving the son of Apollo a glare and Zack raised a brow, lowering his lyre.

“What?!”

“Why did you have to choose something so damn depressing?”

Zack grinned.  “Well would you rather I sing Dancing Dryads?”

“Gods, no.  That song is so annoying.  It’s too...bouncy.”

“Exactly.  I figured a grim little creep like you would like a dark song like that.”  Nathan couldn’t argue, so the son of Hades just shrugged and gave Zack the smallest smirk before pulling ahead, with Zack grinning and trailing behind.  Mason took the rear.

It was amazing that Zack could do that.  He could instantly turn frowns upside down and make everyone feel better.  Zack faltered for a moment and Nathan watched his gaze.  A couple drifting ghosts had paused to watch them for a moment before losing interest and carrying on.  It was probably difficult for something to catch their attention after living for so long in such a barren place.  Nathan would hate to be in a place like this.

Nathan looked up at Mason who was walking, his face clouded with memory, with pain.  He remembered how Mason had seemed to pass out when his mother touched him.  He remembered reaching over to catch the brown haired boy before he fell to the ground as he went into a trance.  What did he see?  He walked over so that he was beside Mason and he watched him with a frown.  “What did you see?” he asked and Mason looked over at him curiously.  “When your mother touched you.”

Mason cringed and looked down.  He didn’t answer immediately.  He watched his feet as he walked, his legs brushing up against the grass as they walked, his hands clenched into fists in his pockets.  “My mother showed me when she died,” he said.  “Chiron saved me, and told her to bless me so that I would be able to have the curse and live.”

Nathan frowned.  “That doesn’t make sense.  Why would she do that?”

“I’m not sure.  She said I was meant for it.”  

Something tingled up his spine and he halted.  Mason and Zack stopped to look back at him curiously.  

“Nathan?” Mason asked with a frown, turning around.  “Is everything okay?”

Nathan raised a hand and Mason went quiet as Nathan closed his eyes.  He couldn’t hear anything.  He couldn’t see anything.  But he could feel it.  There was a strong presence here...too strong for them.  He straightened and drew his sword.  A dagger and bow immediately materialized in Mason and Zack’s hand and the three turned back to back, gazing out over the field.  “What is it?” Mason whispered and Nathan didn’t respond at first.  

Everything was still.  He couldn’t sense it anymore, and one of the thick fogs was beginning to roll over the fields, making it difficult to see.  That was creepily convenient, which only made Nathan more suspicious as he gripped his sword.  

“There’s something here,” he whispered, gazing into the fog.

“Look!” Zack hissed and the other two spun around. 

A figure stood, shrouded in fog.  He was a ways away, his face cloaked in a hood.  Mason and Nathan immediately stiffened with recognition.  A wave of fog rolled over and the figure was gone.  But the three demigods didn’t relax.  That person, that thing...it was still out there.  Their muscles were tense, ready to spring at a moment’s notice.

Nathan spotted him first.  He was now much closer, closer to Nathan.  Nathan elbowed Zack and Mason in the ribs and the three faced the cloaked figure, weapons out in front of them.  Power seemed to radiate from this figure.  An ancient power.  “Who are you?” Nathan demanded, holding up his blade.  He knew his ability in swordplay wouldn’t be able to help him here.

The figure took a step forward and removed his hood and Nathan breathed.  “Thanatos.”  The pale God was watching them with a blank expression.  That’s why he felt such a strong essence.  Thanatos is death.  And then he remembered his dream from so long ago.  During that night he had slept in the truck with Ember.  Thanatos was after him.

He snarled, readying his blade.  Mason and Zack did likewise behind him.  But they were hesitant to fight a God, especially one as powerful as Thanatos.  But it would appear they didn’t have a choice.  “Leave us,” Nathan said, trying to keep his voice confident, but there was a waver.  He was the son of Hades, maybe that held some sort of power over Thanatos.  But Thanatos stayed where he was.  

Nathan narrowed his eyes.  Thanatos’ eyes...he knew Thanatos’ eyes were black.  But it looked like it was shadowed, like darkness was swirling inside his orbs.  He remembered that Erebos had possessed Thanatos.  Maybe there was a way to break him out of it.  He didn’t have time to think of a plan, because suddenly there was a dark scythe in Thanatos’ hand, and the God sprung his attack.

Nathan gasped, dodging to the side as the blade sliced by his face.  But the weapon soon turned on Zack who shouted, jumping out of the way and used his bow to deflect another blow from the scythe.  The blade sliced Zack’s celestial bronze bow in half and Zack looked at the two pieces, shock spread across his face.

Thanatos raised his scythe to cut Zack in half when Nathan rammed the God in the side.  As soon as he touched the God, he immediately felt weak, like his life had drained from him, but it did the trick and the scythe went right over Zack's head, giving the son of Apollo a bit of a haircut.

Nathan landed with a roll, holding his blade tightly in his hand.  But he couldn’t use it.  Now he was the only one with a weapon, he couldn’t afford to lose it.  He had to dodge and evade until he found a chance to strike.  But even then, could you kill a God of Death?  Because death itself was immortal.  

He shouted, rolling to the side as the scythe came again, this time grazing his arm.  He lost feeling in his body at that point.  Falling to the ground, his entire arm was numb as he gasped, curling up in a ball.  Pain flashed through his body and he cringed, trying to move as he brought his eyes up.  Now that he was on the ground, Thanatos focused on Mason and Zack.  Mason had been trying to jab at Thanatos now and then with his dagger, but there wasn’t much he could do.  And now with the biggest threat out of the way, Thanatos turned to Mason.  

He flicked his hand out and Zack groaned, falling to the ground as he held his head, paralyzed with pain and Thanatos’ hand was out.  It grasped Mason’s throat and Mason choked, his feet kicking as Thanatos lifted him up into the air.  His face was completely emotionless.  Nathan cursed, trying to move but the gash to his arm had numbed his entire body, and he could only watch.  Mason was dying.  The color was draining from his face as he clawed at Thanatos’ arms.  His dagger drove into Thanatos’ chest but the God of Death barely seemed to notice, his grip tightening around the demigod’s throat as Mason kicked uselessly.  Mason was going to die.

A black dagger shot from the fog, embedding itself in the side of Thanatos’ head and the God snapped its head around, his black eyes wide and focused.  He released Mason and the demigod dropped to the ground, gagging and gasping for breath as he crawled away.  Thanatos was focused on the fog, easily twirling his scythe readily, waiting.  

Another throwing knife came from the shadow and Thanatos, with reflexes quicker than Nathan could follow, jerked his head to the side and the dagger sliced through the fog and disappeared.  

A shape began to emerge from the fog.  It was huge, the size of a tank and Nathan grasped his blade.  Something was coming.  

A hell hound exploded from the fog, its howl sounding like a roar as it shook the ground.  It was larger than any hound Nathan had ever seen.  Hell, it was larger than a tank, like a small elephant as it charged from the shadows, teeth bared and slobber dripping from its open maw.  And sitting on top of it was a man.  He was tall and lean, wearing dark, ebony armor, his face hidden underneath a skull helm and in his hand he held a black blade.  Stygian Ice.  

The guy leaped off the hound’s back, landing on top of Thanatos and the two were sent sprawling to the ground.  

The two leaped up and Nathan watched as the massive hell hound went to help, to chew Thanatos up like a toy when the guy flung his hand out, stopping it.  He cared for the monster?  

They both reached for their weapons and Nathan cringed as Thanatos’ scythe came down on the man’s sword.  But it didn’t shatter.  The blade deflected the scythe and the guy kicked Thanatos away, grasping his blade and the stranger flew at the God.  Sparks flew as their weapons collided.  The stranger had more skill as a swordsman, but Thanatos had the strength of a god, pushing the man backwards as he began to gain an edge.  

But this guy was a master swordsman.  The armor he wore was thick enough to protect him, but light enough so that he could weave and dance around Thanatos, his blade like an extension of his arm.  The man ducked as the scythe went over his head and seeing an opportunity, lashed out, his blade going into Thanatos’ stomach and he quickly ripped his blade out, jumping back a few paces to give himself some room between himself and the God.  

The scythe came down and the guy spun out of the way so that he was now behind Thanatos, and he drove his blade into Thanatos’ back.  A wound like that would have killed anyone, but this was a God, and the God of Death.  Thanatos wrenched the blade out of his back and backhanded the guy across the face and he flew, landing fifteen feet away, facing upwards.  Dead, unconscious, Nathan didn’t know.  But he wasn’t moving.

Nathan had a selfish habit of not caring for other people.  He felt sympathy if people died but he wouldn’t put himself in danger normally to save people he didn’t care about.  But this was different.  This guy was obviously trying to protect them....Nathan couldn’t let him die.

Thanatos went to the warrior’s side, about to lop his head off when Nathan shouted, coming up behind him and thrust his blade into the God’s side.  Thanatos didn’t look like he was in pain, but the God stiffened and turned around, gripping his scythe and thrust his hand out.  Nathan felt like he was instantly going to block out as he collapsed to the ground.  His eyes drew to Zack and Mason.  Zack was still holding his head, paralyzed in pain and Mason was unconscious, his dagger still clenched tightly in his hand.  Thanatos breathed, turning back to the guy who was groaning, trying to stand.  He wouldn’t be able to get up in time, because the Scythe was already over his head like the weapon of an executioner.  

“Enough,” Thanatos snarled, and he swung it downwards.  

The huge hell hound launched itself at Thanatos.  The God didn’t even have a chance to scream as the dog wrapped it’s jaws around his body and began to shake him around the air like a chew toy.  And the hound looked like it was quite enjoying it, flinging Thanatos up into the air and catching him like a doll.  

“Drop!”  The guy shouted the command, standing up with a grunt.  The hound him gave him puppy eyes but did as he asked, dropping Thanatos on the ground and the God went to crawl backwards as the warrior approached.  But his sword flashed faster than Nathan’s eyes could follow, pinning Thanatos’ hand into the ground, slicing right through his flesh.  

The stranger stooped down with an arm on his knee.  Nathan couldn’t see his face, but he could imagine his expression.  Cold, quiet, serious as he stared down the God of Death.  He drew a dagger from his boot and raised it to Thanatos’ throat and the God seemed to pale as the blade pressed up against his neck.

“I recommend you leave,” the guy said, his voice calm and collected but with an edge of danger.  “Before things get messy.”

Thanatos didn’t respond.  He only glared at the man before disappearing into smoke and vanished, leaving behind an empty cloak.  

With Thanatos gone, the pain instantly vanished from Nathan’s arm and he breathed, looking over at Zack who looked like he was about to pass out, but the pain seemed to be gone from him, too and the demigods stood up, watching the stranger warily.  The hound padded up to the stranger and although she looked at him fondly, she watched Nathan and Zack with caution.  She would be ready to defend her master in a heartbeat.

“Who are you?” Nathan asked.  He knew that it was rude, asking his savior such a blunt question so quickly, but when you were constantly being attacked by monsters and people, you tend to get suspicious.  And this was no convenient.

The guy had a hand on top of the hell hound’s head as he stroked her, watching them.  Nathan wished he could see his face.  He couldn’t see his expression, couldn’t tell what he was thinking.  He held his blade tightly in his hands as he watched the stranger.  He was good...he doubted he’d be able to fight him and win.  

Finally, the guy removed his helmet.  Raven black hair fell around his bone white face and brown eyes gazed at him with a calculating, intelligent glint.  The glint of a madman.  

“My name is Nico Di’Angelo.”

 


	31. The New Party Member

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas!

After a couple cabs, Catherine, Rose and Mikhail found themselves in the center of a suburb.  It wasn’t one of the rich, fancy ones.  Just simple, nice looking houses that lined the street, with well tended lawns and lawn gnomes that guarded the yards with shovels and rakes.  The place had a homey feel.  A feel that made Catherine feel like she was going to be sick.  

“So where is your friend?” Rose asked, coming up on Catherine and Catherine pointed down the road.

“I used to live here.”  She didn’t want to think about it.  Those years where she lived in this suburb were some of the worst in her life and Catherine took a shuddering breath, closing her eyes and trudged forward.  “He lived a couple houses down from me.  Hopefully he still lives here, because if he doesn’t, I don’t know what we’re going to do.”

“Tell us about him?” Mikhail suggested, taking Catherine’s other side.  He had been quiet for most of the journey, but Catherine could tell he was nervous.  In his pocket she could see him twisting around a screw and Catherine gave a groan, rolling her eyes.

“Felix...well, he’s interesting.  I’ll just say that.”

She stopped, gazing into a yard and the others followed her gaze.  Mikhail frowned, his body tensing up.  “Is that where he lives?” he asked curiously and Catherine shook her head.

“No.  That’s where I lived.”

The house was broken down and shuttered, the blinds closed and the door boarded up.  The grass was overgrown, a couple feet tall and she could see that the roof was starting to fall apart.  She was surprised the owners of the suburb hadn’t come in to destroy the place yet.  She would rather it be completely gone than standing.  If anything, the outside now perfectly reflected the soul of the man who used to live within.  She hated looking at her house, seeing it so perfect, so goody-two-shoes looking and feeling so much pain inside.  Completely hidden by the innocent masquerade on the outside.

“Catherine.”

Catherine glanced over and Mikhail was watching her, concern flashing in his dark eyes.  “Let’s go.”  

Catherine nodded and took a breath, stalking ahead of the two as she looked down the road.  He didn’t live far away from her.  Right down the road.  She scanned the houses from where she stood and pointed.  “There.  That’s the house.”

As they approached it, Catherine realized it was exactly the way they left it.  A perfect little garden, with a flamingo standing balanced on one leg surrounded by an army of little gnomes.  Roses and vines climbed up the side of the house, giving it a bit of a wild edge which was softened by the open window with flowers sitting on the rim, a warm, chocolaty smell filtering in from outside.  

It was the the most terrifying thing Catherine had ever seen.

She stepped up to the door and rang the doorbell, cringing as she heard the  _ ding!  _ from inside and stepped back so that she was yet again flanked by Mikhail and Rose.

The door opened and a small, plump woman stepped outside.  Her hair was dark and greying, extremely curly and short and her rounded body was outlined by the red sundress she wore.  She peered at them through glasses and she smiled warmly, if a bit confused.  “Hello,” she greeted.  “What can I do for...” she faltered as she met Catherine’s eye and her jaw dropped.  

“Catty?  Is that you?”

Catherine didn’t have time to run.  The woman stepped up and wrapped her arms around Catherine in a tight hug and Catherine stiffened, and gave in with a sigh, hugging the woman back.  “We didn’t think you would come back!” the woman said, stepping away from Catherine to give her some air as she twisted the strap of her dress anxiously.  “I thought you would have stayed at that camp I told you about.”

Mikhail raised a brow and Catherine ignored him, shaking her head.  “I would have.  Believe me.  I didn’t want to come back here.  But we were in the area, and we need Felix’s help.”  She turned back to Rose and Mikhail and gestured towards the woman.  “This is Mrs. Callaway.  Felix’s mom.  Mrs. Callaway, this is Mikhail and Rose.”

“Well hello!” Mrs. Callaway said cheerily, giving Rose a hug and shaking Mikhail’s hand.  ‘Oooh,” she said, pulling away from Mikhail.  “He has strong hands.  And warm.  A son of Hephaestus, I’m guessing?”

Mikhail’s eyes widened, and he gave a nod.  “Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, that would make us brother and sister, now wouldn’t it!”

Mikhail’s eyes went even larger.  Catherine was afraid they would pop out of his head and she quickly changed the subject, stepping in between Mikhail and Mrs. Callaway.  “This needs to be quick.  Camp business, and we really need Felix.  Is he here?”

“He should be in his room.  Should I go get him?”

“No.  I’ll grab him.  Thank you.”  She nodded for Mikhail and Rose to follow her as she stepped into the house.  If it had been any other person, it would have been considered rude to just walk into someone elses house.  But this woman was more of a mother to Catherine than Athena will ever be.  It was like coming home.  

She walked through the house with perfect recognition, as if she had stepped through it just yesterday.  Everything seemed to be the same.  The living room was rearranged and the couch had a different cover, but it was still roomy and bright, with light shining in through the large window and onto the beige carpet.  Felix’s room was right past there.

She frowned as she heard music.  It was an italian song, she couldn’t understand it but it was fast paced and bouncy.  Exactly something that Felix would be listening to.  His door was charred, like there was an explosion and she breathed, looking back at Rose and Mikhail.  “We are about to step into the ultimate hive of scum and villainy.  Be on guard.”  And she opened the door.

The room was small, with wooden loft bed that was nothing but a giant pile of blankets and pillows, no mattress, but the ten blankets would easily make up for it.  A massive desk underneath, cluttered with screws, hammers, nails and machinery was lit up by a lamp that was stuck on the wall. 

Then she saw Felix.  And he too looked exactly the same.  Small, with crazy, curly black hair and tanned skin, mischievous amber eyes and a contagious smile.  He was playing a video game, Grand Theft Auto, Catherine guessed and was racing through a town, running over as many people as he humanly could.

“Felix,” she said.  He couldn’t hear them over the music, and he was bobbing his head to the beat, his mouth moving in perfect sync with the lyrics.  He could speak Italian now?  Or maybe he just listened to way too much music.  

She called his name again and he laughed.  Not at her, at the police man he jollily ran over in his sports car.  Catherine frowned, looking at the speakers and she crossed the room, yanking out the plug and Felix jolted.

“Mom, why did you-” she spun around and spotting Catherine, he froze, his jaw dropping.  Catherine braced herself for another hug as Felix grinned a huge smile.  “Cat!”  He leaped up, tackling her in a hug and this time, Catherine didn’t hold back.  She missed him.  She smiled, wrapping her arms around his waist and the two stayed there for a while before Felix pulled away, the smile still plastered on his face with his hands on her shoulders.

“Where the heck have you been, girl?  Things have been pretty boring without you.”

“You know, around.”  She frowned as she spotted something writhing in Felix’s shirt.  “Um, there’s something in your...”

Felix looked down.  “Oh!”  He reached inside, pulling out a white ferret and the creature scampered up his arm to snuggle his neck and he grinned, picking it up by the scruff of his neck and threw it onto his bed.

“Pickel is still alive?”

“This isn’t Pickel, that one croaked a while ago.  Nah, this is Jasper!” 

“How did you find another white...nevermind, I don’t want to know.  Felix, this is Rose and Mikhail.  Mikhail and Rose, this is Felix.”

Felix spotted Mikhail and Rose and he flashed them a smile.  Almost immediately, he singled Rose out as he grinned, crossing over to her and he took the dark skinned girl's hand.  Rose stiffened with alarm, even more so as he bent over like he had approached a queen and leaned down, kissing the top of her hand.  

“You grace me with your presence, milady.”

Rose stuttered something that sounded like a thank you and Catherine shoved Felix away angrily and the boy laughed.  “Stop flirting.  Listen, we need your help.”

“So rude,” Felix said.  But it was obvious he was not offended as he sat down on the spinning chair by his desk, putting his feet up as he slid down.  “But for my long lost childhood buddy, anything.”

“We need you to drive us to San Francisco.”

Felix blinked and sat up.

“Uh...that’s kind of a long drive.”  He started to rotate nervously.  “I don’t know if I can do that.  I mean, my mom has been getting sick and I have a job now and then there’s also school that I need to study for and-”

“Felix.”  Catherine put her hand on the rim of his chair to stop him from spinning.  Her face was inches away from his and he swallowed.  “If we don’t get to San Francisco soon, the world will be destroyed.  The fate of the earth lies in your hands.”  She was being serious, but there was a friendly twinkle in her eye as she watched her friend.  

Felix grinned.  “So this is like demigod hero stuff?” 

“Exactly like demigod hero stuff.”

Felix puffed out his chest and squared his jaw, pushing Catherine away as he stood up tall.  He beat his right fist against his heart and gave a nod.  “Anything to help a damsel in distress.”  He gestured to his bed.  “You guys want to sit down?”

The four demigods climbed up into his loft, which was easily big enough to comfortably fit four demigods, and they relaxed on the blankets as Felix pulled out a bag of cheezits, passing it around.  “So how about you guys tell me about this super important mission that you need me for?”

“One of our friends has been captured.  Ember Carsons, a daughter of Hecate.”

“The magic lady?”

“Yeah.  The magic lady.”

“Is Ember hot?”

Rose giggled while Mikhail gave a blush.  Catherine just raised a brow.  “You’re such a man whore, I swear.  Anyways.  Erebos, you know, darkness incarnate, kidnapped her and is going to use her for a ritual.  To do what, we’re not quite sure, but it can’t be good.  Erebos wouldn’t capture her for just anything.  We also need to save Apollo.  He was kidnapped, too.  It all has to do with shadow.”

“I won’t be a part of this, right?”  he looked around.  “What?!  I’m not a hero like you guys, while you’ve been fighting monsters and training I’ve been fighting senior year and gaming and stuff.  I’m not good at monster slaying.”

“But aren’t you a demigod?” Mikhail asked curiously, leaning forward.

“That’s a lovely accent, are you Russian?”

Mikhail blinked, drawing back.  “Yes.”

“Does that mean you’re a spy?” Felix asked excitedly.  

“I...what?”

“Felix, stop being an idiot.”

“Sorry.”  Felix grinned and looked back at Mikhail.  “Yeah, I’m a demigod.  And a legacy.  My mom is a daughter of Hephaestus too, so I inherited being a nugget nut from her.  Not a bad thing, by the way.”

“And your dad?” Rose asked.  

“Caerus.”

Rose frowned.  “Who’s that?”

Felix gave an exasperated sigh, slapping his hand to his forehead.  “No one knows about my dad.  I don’t know if that’s good or bad...anyways, Caerus is the god of luck.”

“So you’re really lucky?” Rose asked with a smile.

Felix smirked.  “Unfortunately, that didn’t come with the package.  I mean, in life or death situations, yeah I’m pretty lucky, but I could never win the lottery.”

“But why are you here and not at camp?” Mikhail asked.

“I don’t have a really important parent like you guys.  You didn’t even know who Caerus was.  And so no one knows about me.  I can stay under the radar pretty easily.  The only times monsters came to our house they were normally after my mom, and we were always able to get rid of them.”

“It’s a wonder you’re not dead,” Catherine muttered, popping a cracker in her mouth.

Felix gave her a playful wink.  “Lucky guy, I guess.”

Catherine shoved him and Felix laughed, a wild grin still on his face.  He was such a happy go lucky guy.  She knew he didn’t have a crush on her.  He was just naturally flirtatious and charismatic.  And she could see it getting to Rose, because she remained very quiet, the blush from when he first took her hand still on her face and she gave him a hard glare.  No one was allowed to mess with her best friend’s emotions.  He didn’t notice as he leaned back, pulling a screw out of his pocket and he tossed it playfully into the air.

“So when are we going to be taking off?  Today?”

“Preferably.”  Catherine cringed, her hand going to her stomach and Felix immediately sat up, concern flashing through his brown eyes.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, reaching out and he put a warm hand on her knee.

“I’m fine.”  She slid down from the loft and nodded towards the hallway.  “I’ll be right back.”  

Felix nodded and she left him with her friends as she walked down the hallway.  She could remember exactly where the bathroom was.  Opening the door, she stumbled in, closing the door behind her.  Pain was flashing through her stomach as she crossed over to the bathtub, sitting on the rim and she pulled up her shirt.  The pain was making her dizzy as she gripped the edge of the tub, closing her eyes.

It had to be the injury she had gotten from the vyrkolokas earlier.  She hadn’t thought it was that bad when the blade of the creature sliced across her stomach.  Her vision swirled as she gazed at the injury.

It was fine.  It didn’t even look that bad.  She could get through it.  Lowering her shirt, she looked over as she heard a rap on the door and she breathed, looking over.  “Come in.”

Mikhail opened the door and stepped in, watching her with concern.  “Hey,” he said, closing the door behind him so that they were alone.  He went to her and knelt down so that he could look her in the eye.  “You’ve been acting funny,” he said.  “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”  She said it automatically.  Catherine wasn’t one for opening up.  She had to come up with a lie.  She didn’t want to hinder the others with her injury.  “It’s just...I don’t like being back here.”  Now that was honest.  “I have a lot of bad memories here.  And I’d rather just leave.”

Mikhail didn’t ask what the bad memories were.  After being through a lot, people learn to let others keep it to themselves rather than have them open up.  So he nodded, standing up.  “We’ll be leaving soon.  Mrs. Callaway is packing us all snacks for the road.”

“She’s actually letting him leave?”

“She understands what’s at stake.”

“Good.”  She hesitated.  “I need to do something before we go, though.”  She left Mikhail at that, sliding past him and back into Felix’s room.  He was talking to Rose, and she was laughing with a bright smile on her face.  Not even a blushing smile, a real smile.  Felix had a gift of making people laugh.  “Felix!”

Felix looked down and smiled.  “What’s up?”

“I need to talk to you.”

Felix nodded, jumping down from the bed and Catherine lead him away from the other two, into the guest room where they could be alone and she closed the door.  “I want to do something before we head out,” she said, turning around to face Felix and the curly haired boy frowned, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah, sure.  What do you want to do?”

“I need you to help me break into my old house.”

Felix blinked, then he gave an eager grin and nodded firmly, a devilish glint in his eyes.  “Consider it done.”

  
  
  



	32. The Forgotten Home

They decided not to leave until later that night, while Mrs. Callaway made dinner.  So she, Felix and her friends sat in his room goofing around, playing videogames and laughing.  All of them cracked up so hard while Felix was trying to teach Rose how to play Grand Theft Auto.  She went to extremes to avoid hitting people, even if it meant her car had to go over a bridge and into the water.  Felix laughed, elbowing her playfully.  “Dude, you’re supposed to run people over.  Vandalizing and murdering is what this game is all about!”

“I don’t like to vandalize and murder!”  Finally, he was able to convince her to hit a man and she instantly regretted it, backing up and watching his body until the man slowly stumbled up and ran away.  Felix and Catherine raced with car games and he played Call of Duty with Mikhail while Mikhail had to convince him that though he was Russian, he was not a spy and did not constantly drink Vodka.  

Catherine’s alarm chimed and she looked down at her watch and back up at Felix.  “All right, we should probably go.”

“What are you doing?” Mikhail asked, looking over from the video game he was playing with Rose.  

“I’m going to my home with Felix.”

Rose frowned.  “Do you think it’s safe?”  Rose knew all about Catherine’s family life, and Catherine smiled, putting a hand on her knee.  

“I’ll be fine.” 

Rose nodded and Catherine lead Felix out of the bedroom towards the front door.  

Felix and Catherine stepped into the kitchen where Mrs. Callaway was beginning to conjure up from supper, her hands moving like a blur over all the pots and pans that were burning over the stove.  She looked up, frowning as she spotted Felix pulling on his jacket.  “Where are you two going?” she asked, giving a wary smile as she cracked open a couple eggs, dribbling them onto one of the pans.

“Catherine and I are going out for some McDonalds,” Felix said with a grin, grabbing his wallet off the counter.  Catherine gave him a raised brow.  He was a ridiculously good liar.  

“You know McDonalds isn’t good for you...how about you go to Vincent’s Veggies or the Dairy Market or-”

“C’mon mom, one triple burger isn’t going to give me a heart attack.”  He ushered Catherine out of the house and closed the door behind them.

“How often do you lie to her?” Catherine asked, giving him a disapproving scowl.

“Only when I need to get something I want,” he said and he stepped out onto the street, looking down.  “All right, let’s do this.”

Walking side by side, the childhood friends made their way down the street.  A couple people in their yards gave them questioning glances, smiling with familiarity at Felix but otherwise not knowing who Catherine was.  She was surprised no one remembered her...she supposed being cooped up in her home all the time made it rather difficult for the neighbors to get to know her.

They slowed down to a stop as they approached her home.  It looked dead.  The other homes had water spraying out over the lawn, children playing in the windows, flowers growing along the cement walkways.  This home was broken, battered and overgrown in weeds.  A line of sweat appeared on Catherine’s face and Felix grasped her hand. She barely felt it.  “Hey,” he said slowly.  “You sure you want to do this?”

Registering that he was gripping her hand, she wrenched it away from him.  “I’m sure.  Come on.”

They approached the door and Catherine turned around, folding her arms over her chest as she looked out for cops and crabby old people as Felix crouched by the doorknob, slipping a wire out of his sleeve.  “There’s a cylinder that rotates inside the doorknob,” he muttered under his breath, sliding the wire into the keyhole.  “There are a couple pins that keep it stable, if I can tap them, it should unlock.”  His curly hair fell in his face and his features took on a concentrated look as he delicately twisted the wire.  Catherine heard the faintest click and Felix breathed.  “Okay, one is set.  Four more to go.”

“When did you learn how to pick locks?”

“Oh, you know.  Around.”  

“Can you teach me?”

Felix twisted his head around to give her a wild grin.  “A magician never reveals his secrets.”

Catherine rolled his eyes.  “Sure.  Hurry up before someone sees us.”

“You can’t rush art.”  But Felix picked up the pace, his fingers moving quickly and carefully over the lock, slipping the wire in and out.  She heard a couple more clicks and Felix breathed, standing up and twisted the doorknob.  It was unlocked.  “Welcome home.”

Catherine’s stomach lurched and she stepped past him, opening the door open hesitantly.  The room was dark.  It was the entry hall, a shoe rack to the right with big boots and tiny little sneakers.  Coats hung on a rack above, big biker coats and thin little wool coats.  The clothes of a rough biker and a little girl.  

She stopped at a picture and she stumbled a little.  A family photo, a woman with long black hair tied in a braid that goes down to her waist.  Her eyes, a familiar, startling grey gaze directly at the camera, a thin smile playing on the woman’s lips.  Standing beside her, a taller man with a bushy black beard.  He was broad and muscular, with a happy twinkle in his light blue eyes.  And in their arms was a little girl, her coppery, auburn red hair in two little pig tails being held in her mother’s arms.

“Good looking family,” Felix murmured, stepping up to look more closely. 

“Right,” Catherine muttered, tearing her eyes away from the picture as she stepped into the home.  A thought struck her...what if they weren’t alone?  What if her father still lived here?  When she ran away, she never heard news of him, never learned what had happened.  “Dad?” she called hesitantly as she stepped into the kitchen.  Everything was covered in white cloths, even the couch in the livingroom that she could see over the counter.  Her father obviously wasn’t here...this place had been abandoned for a really long time.

Catherine kept her gaze away from Felix as she gave herself a tour of her home.  It was familiar.  Not the kind of familiarity that came with Felix’s house.  That home gave her a warm feeling, like she belonged, like she was loved.  Like the Callaways accepted her and wanted her to stay forever.  This place...it was a painful familiar.  Like all the fear was beginning to seep back in, making her want to run and bolt all the way back to Camp Half-Blood.  

“Do you mind telling me why we’re here?” Felix asked, picking up a pencil from off a desk, twirling it between his fingers.  “You obviously don’t want to be here.”

Catherine plucked the pencil away from him and gazed at it, running her finger along the edge.  “I don’t know,” she whispered quietly.  “I’ve been afraid of this place for so long I feel like I have to face it.”

“Afraid of it?” Felix asked.  But his question went unanswered as she walked away from him, towards a rickety staircase that went up into darkness.  She knew that sons of Hephaestus could conjure a bit of fire, but she doubted he could being only a legacy, which meant that they were pretty much blind until they came to her room.  She put her hand out, feeling for the rail and started up, the stairs creaking under her weight and she heard a crack from behind and Felix shouting out in alarm.

“Are you okay?” she asked, spinning around and put a hand on his shoulder.  Or she thought it was his shoulder, her hand got tangled in his curly brown hair.

“Why are you petting me?  And yeah, I just stepped in a hole on the stairs.”

“I’m not,” Catherine growled, a blush growing on her features and she was thankful for the darkness as she made her way up the stairs.  She tried to form a map of the place in her head.  At the top of the stairs there would be a hallway going to the right, and the first door on the left would be hers.

She stumbled a bit on the top, expecting another step and having only flat ground and she turned to the right.  Her hand went out to where she knew there should be a light switch but when she flicked it up, it stayed dark and she breathed, putting out her hands and felt along the left wall and she heard Felix swearing and cursing behind her.

“Where the heck did your dad go anyways?” he asked, tripping over something.

“I don’t know.”  She was wondering that herself.  He was an ex marine, so maybe he went back into the military.  “Maybe he went to find my mom,” she said, stopping.  Her hand had found the doorknob.  She didn’t notice the tremble in her fingers until Felix’s warm hand found hers, gripping it comfortingly.  She didn’t know how he had guessed that she was shaking, but she closed her eyes and gave a soft breath.  “I haven’t been in there in years,” she whispered.

“Everything will be okay.”

It was almost like when they were kids again.  Felix being the shoulder she could lean against and Catherine being the brains of the duo.  She nodded firmly, gritting her teeth and opened the door.  

Everything was different from when she left.  Tarps covered her furniture, all of her toys were gone and the window was nailed down.  It had a stuffy smell, making it hard to breathe as she stepped in.  “Wow,” she muttered, sitting down on her bed and looked around.  “It looks so...” she didn’t have words.  Different, ruined, she hadn’t been here in a long time but her room was always her only source of happiness and alone time.  She could remember racing into the room and locking the door, instantly feeling relaxed with the solid wood between herself and her father.

“Do you remember when I would sneak in?” Felix asked, going to the window.  He pulled a hammer out of his pocket (when did Felix carry wrenches?) and began to remove the nails from the window.

Catherine smirked, sitting on the bed.  “Every night.”

He plied the last nail from the window and thrust it open, sticking his head out.  It was nighttime, and dark clouds floated in front of the bright moon that shimmered silver light into the room, lighting up the space.  “Your dad got pissed that one time he caught me.”

“He almost threw you out the window.”

Felix grinned, sitting down next to her on the bed.  “Remember how we would be playing the playstation and we’d be laughing so hard we’d have to gag ourselves with washcloths so that your dad wouldn’t hear?”

Catherine smiled.  “We would put atomic fireballs in the washcloths and suck on them because it would be too hot if we just put them in our mouth and stain the cloths.”

“Hey, I did it once!”

“And you choked!”

Felix grinned and shrugged.  “Hey, at least I did it.”

The two went quiet as they watched the clouds floating by the window.  Catherine didn’t know how much she missed her friend.  Felix had always been a stable income of laughter and happiness, no matter what was going on between herself and her father.  

Felix placed his hand on top of hers and she jerked her head over.  He continued to watch the window, like he hadn’t noticed what he was doing and he glanced over, raising a brow.  “What?”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Uh...holding your hand I guess.”  He grinned.   “Why, am I doing it wrong?  Let’s put your hand on top.”

She slid her hand out from under his.  “I can’t.”

He didn’t look hurt.  He expected it and he shrugged and looked out the window.  “I always liked you.”  He said it simply and Catherine’s heart jolted.  Really?  She always figured he was just always a naturally flirty child.  “And we both changed a lot.  I just figured after all this time...” he gave a shrug, looking down and Catherine’s eyes softened.

“It’s not you.”  She hesitated.  “Well, maybe a little.  But I’m not going to get with any guy.”

Felix blinked and shot her a quick look of shock.  “Are you-”

“No!” Catherine said with a laugh, giving him a shove.  “I’m not into girls, trust me.  I like guys.  But...” she hesitated.  “I’m going to be joining the Hunters of Artemis.  When all of this is over.”  A look of confusion passed over his face.  “A group of teenage girls who swear off boys for the rest of their life, dedicate their lives to Artemis and are in turn granted with immortality and spend eternity following Artemis and hunting monsters.”

“Wow.  Sounds a lot like you.”

“I’ve always wanted to do it.”

“Do you  _ have  _ to swear off guys?  What if you like, kiss someone in secret?”

Catherine shook her head.  “Artemis always knows.  No matter what, you can’t kiss or express feelings for a man.”

“That would suck,” Felix shook his head.  “I would never be able to swear off chicks.  So what happens if you do?”

“Your immortality is taken and you’re either cursed or killed.”

Felix gave a low whistle.  “Damn, these Greek Gods are rough on you guys.”  He frowned, looking over.  “What is that?” 

Catherine turned around to see what he was looking at and her eyes narrowed.  There was something sticking out between her bed and her wall, a little package.  She reached across the bed, plucking it from the crack and held it delicately in her hand.  “It’s from Athena,” she said automatically, the silver olive tree on the front of the package marking who it was from and she glanced over at Felix warily.  “She knew I would come here.”

“Well what are you waiting for?  Open it!”

Catherine nodded.  Her throat felt dry as she tore open the package.  When did she leave this here?  Did it have clues of where her father was?  She opened up the package and pulled a newspaper from the inside, opened it up and skimmed over the page.  She was having difficulty finding what she was supposed to be looking for.  Perhaps Athena had made a mistake and given her the wrong newspaper?  Then she spotted it and her face grew tight, her skin paling up as she read, a slight tremble to her fingers.  

“Catherine?” Felix asked, alarmed as the newspaper slipped from her fingers.  She didn’t reply.  Her gaze went outside and tears gathered in her silver eyes.  Felix frowned and picked up the newspaper and he gave a breath as he spotted the article that Catherine read.  “Bruce Falls, age 41,” he muttered, “slipped into a state of depression after his daughter, nine years of age, ran away from home.  She has yet to be found and has been presumed dead.  On August 25th, four months after Catherine ran away, Bruce was found hanging from the stairs in his home in Littlewoods Subdivision...” he swallowed, looking up.  “Catherine, I’m so-” 

Catherine was already walking towards the door, her face hidden from Felix as she quickly went down the stairs.  “Catherine, wait!”  Felix leaped up from the bed, chasing after her into the hallway.  “Hold on!”

“Leave me alone,” Catherine said.  She wasn’t crying, but her voice held a delicate shudder that suggested that she was close.  “Let’s just get out of here.”

“No, Catherine, stop,” Felix grasped onto her arm with a surprisingly hard grip, keeping her from moving.  She gave him a death glare, but otherwise stayed still as he spun her around.  “Just hold on a sec,” he said quietly, lifting a hand up to her face.  Tears were gathering in her grey eyes and she looked away, blinking angrily to clear her eyes of them.  

“What do you want?”

He answered in a hug.  He pulled her in tightly and Catherine broke down then, closing her eyes and gave a choked sob, burying her face into Felix’s shoulder.  He didn’t stiffen up, he didn’t seem uncomfortable.  He almost melted into her touch, resting his head on top of her shoulder as he hugged her closely, closing his eyes.  Her pain was his pain.  It always had been and the son of Caerus gave a shaky sigh.  “I’m so sorry, Cat,” he whispered, holding the shaking girl.  “I didn’t know.”

“You know what’s funny?” Catherine whispered, hardly being able to talk.

“What?”

Catherine gave a dark, humorless chuckle.  “August 25th is my birthday.”

 

The two sat on Felix’s porch, on the swing and they rocked themselves back and forth.  They didn’t say anything.  They were both trapped in their own thoughts.  Catherine didn’t know what Felix was thinking.  For such an open guy, he really did have a great poker face, a concentrated, thoughtful look etched on his features.  

“I don’t know why he did it,” she murmured and he looked over with a frown.

“He loved you.”

Catherine smirked.  “Right.”

“Why did you run away?” 

Catherine sighed, kicking from the ground to make them rock a little faster.  “It doesn’t matter.”

“Come on, just tell me.”

Catherine knew he would keep at her until she told him, so she gave him a hard glare and gave in.  “My mom met my dad a really long time ago,” she finally whispered.  “He was a military strategist while he was at war.  And she was his commanding officer.  And while they were at war, they fell in love and she had me.”  She hesitated.  “At first, my dad thought that my mom died.  He didn’t know the truth about her.  And he was devastated, but he still cared about me.”

“He was allowed to be sent home, being my only parent and we grew up here.  And everything was okay.  My dad always suffered from PTSD, he was depressed and angry a lot but we were relatively happy.  Then she sent that letter.”  Catherine’s eyes grew hard.  “Gods, why couldn’t she just keep her mouth shut...she told him the truth.  Who she was, and that she left to protect me.”

“What happened?” Felix asked, leaning towards her, his eyes hard.

“He began to hate me,” her words were choked as the daughter of Athena struggled to keep her wild emotions in check.  “He blamed me for Athena leaving, he always told me that it was my fault and he would rather I be gone than my mother.  He...first it started with him getting drunk.  He would throw a couple punches every now and then, nothing really bad.  But they began to get worse.”  She sighed and rubbed the back of her neck.  “I tried to run away a few times.  But the beatings got worse after.”

“So...I guess you didn’t get those bruises from falling all the time, huh?”

Catherine smiled darkly and shook her head.  “No.  When I was nine though I ren away...I didn’t think he would care but...”  she took a deep breath.  She would not start crying again.  “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Being there with me.”

Felix watched her for a long moment.  She expected some stupid joke about sticking with her until the end, and was surprised when he leaned over, his lips brushing against her cheek and he drew away, his eyes soft with an intensity that she rarely saw in the goofy, curly haired kid.  

“No one will ever treat you like that again.  I promise.”

Catherine was about to tell Felix that demigods were typically not graced with lives where someone wasn’t trying to mess with you when the door opened and Mikhail stepped out.  “Catherine?” he asked.  He knew that something delicate was going on, so he approached the two tentatively.  “We should get going.  Khalcifer is probably going to be getting cold pretty soon and we don’t want our Underworld guide freezing to death.”

Now that Mikhail had mentioned it, Catherine shivered a little and nodded.  “All right.  Let’s go.”

They said goodbye to Felix’s mother, and although Mrs. Callaway got a little tearful at losing her baby boy, she knew that he had to do it and she let them go without a complaint, after of course hugging the life out of every single one of them and stuffing their pockets with cookies and cupcakes.  Catherine didn’t complain.  She had missed Mrs. Callaway’s cooking.

They waved their final goodbye and piled into Felix’s van, Catherine taking shotgun and Rose and Mikhail filing in the back.  “Where to?” he asked, looking back at them.

“Just follow my lead,” Catherine said.  “Time to get Khal.”

 

The van thudded through the forest for about a mile before Catherine put her hand out and the van slowed down.  Tied to a tree, and gagged, was Khalcifer, whose eyes had grown considerably larger with hatred as he spotted them.  

“Uh, who’s that?” Felix asked, getting out of the car with Catherine and the others, glancing up at the black sky.  The forest was illuminated by the moon as Catherine stepped up to Khalcifer, kneeling down to his level.

“Khalcifer Gates, a bad guy son of Erebos and our guide into the Underworld.”

“And why’s he tied up?”

Catherine pulled out her knife and sliced his gag and Khalcifer snarled, shaking his head and spat out the cloth.

“Wait until I get my hands on you, you bitch!” Khalcifer shouted, his eyes wild and murderous.  “I’m going to gut you, you fucking whore-” Catherines shoved the gag back in his mouth and he choked.

“That’s why.”

“Seems like a fun guy,” Felix muttered.

“You know the deal, Khal,” Catherine said darkly.  “I’ll cut you loose, but no funny business.”  She sliced his bonds and Khalcifer breathed, flexing his arms and yanked the gag out of his mouth, wiping at the edge of his lip.

“I’m going to kill you,” he promised, giving her an evil glare.  

“Where are we off to now?” Mikhail asked and Catherine stood up, sheathing her dagger.

“Los Angeles.  Next stop is the Underworld.”

 


End file.
